


Deadlock

by mishmhem



Category: Shadowrun, The Losers (2010), The Losers (Comic), The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-19
Updated: 2017-02-18
Packaged: 2017-12-08 23:06:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 36
Words: 83,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/767112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mishmhem/pseuds/mishmhem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It started out simply enough: Send Jensen and Cougar in to get intel on a smuggling opperation. Simple. So why did the corporation running the military feel the need to force them to comply? Nothing is what it seems. It never is in the Shadowrun world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: This story started as a simple enough idea and a question: How do you get a programmer to do what you want? The result triggered a series of questions: Modern or Futuristic? Original Characters or Existing/Fan fiction-able series? ... paper or plastic?. You get the idea. What came about was a story that has taken over my writing and now tops the scales at 350 pages and I haven't gotten to the final show down... So... I will be publishing what is written at a rate of 1 chapter a week, which will give me time to a) finish it b) finish my National Novel Writing Month challenge () get back to my other ongoing projects that this story superseded. Please, let me know what you think.
> 
> Intro: Long before I wrote here, I wrote Shadowrun fanfiction (and a few others on different sites). There the world I wrote in was created and I supplied the characters. This is my first cross over between the two worlds of fanfiction: Game fiction and Losers Fiction.
> 
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fan-fiction. It is not meant to claim rights or infringe upon the copyrights of the originators or copyright holders of Shadowrun (Now held by Catalyst Games I believe) or the Losers - Comic book or movie franchises -Vertigo Comics, Andy Diggle, Warner Brothers.
> 
> Within the first 5 minutes of the movie, my first thought was: "This is Shadowrun!" well... now it is.
> 
> For those not familiar with the Losers: You have a team of four special ops soldiers who are framed /supposedly killed in action and looking for paybacks.
> 
> For those not familiar with Shadowrun: You have a world on the edge of... all sorts of things. The world is run by Corporations, Magic has returned as have the races of fantasy. The year is 2059 and beyond and the internet has long been replaced by a 3D matrix with full emersion: to access it programmers (deckers) use a deck that plugs directly into their brain the world within is controled by the decker - with 3d representations of data and actions: It could look like a cartoon; a film noir... almost anything imaginable and a few, bend the imagery and data to their will.
> 
> It's a match made in writing heaven. So sit back, and enjoy!

 

**Chapter 1**

Call it what you want, deadlock, deadly embrace, or a double-triggered cyclic proximity transmitting safety device, to Jensen it meant one thing and one thing only: he was royally fragged.

It took everything he had not to start clawing at the device when the recovery room nurse smiled at him. As his hand reached reflexively to the incision point he felt a hand gently pull it back down and pat it sympathetically.

"Cougs?"

"Yes... "

"Next time we get summoned to the hospital for briefing... just shoot me."

The man next to him laughed, but it never reached his eyes. No, he was not happy about this either.

"We will get you out of this," he assured Jensen His words sounded more like a promise than an assurance and it seemed to help.

"How?" Jensen asked in a resigned tone. "You die... boom... we get too far apart... boom... someone in a room thinks we're going haywire... you get the idea."

"I know."

"Yeah, but it's not your head that goes 'boom."

Cougar looked at him, his expression saying it all- if Jensen's head did go boom, those responsible would die in much the same manner.

It was something.

 

 

The briefing room was dimly lit. The company man sat at the front table along with his bodyguard and a pair of cybered Samurai flanking him for effect. At the other end of the table sat a liaison officer from the military's intelligence branch.

Three soldiers entered the room. Their uniforms were worn, but crisp. Everything was as it should be- unless of course you were one of the soldiers in question. Two of their members were missing and their leader was not happy about it.

Looking at them, the company man realized, none of them were. Well, the assignment wasn't for them to like or not, and everything they'd done had been within acceptable parameters, and while the potential loss of two trained resource such as Corporal Jensen and Sergeant Alvarez weren't without cost- ultimately it came down to the fact that Jensen was the decker with the skills they needed and the best chance of accomplishing the mission- even if his odds of making it back were... less than optimal.

 

 

The trio moved as a unit, their leader entering and stepping to the left as soon as he cleared the door. His eyes narrowed as he scanned the room and assessed the threat.

'Company man, non-military,' he sub vocalized into the team's secure comm unit as his second in command and their transportation officer both entered and stepped to the right of the doorway. Though their side arms remained holstered, there was no mistaking the threat these men posed.

'This can't be good,' his second in command agreed.

'Any sign of the others?'

'Negative.'

They spoke freely over the encrypted line knowing the only one who could break their decryption was the man who'd designed it: a man who was blatantly missing from the briefing room.

"What have you done with my men?" The leader spoke with the authority of a man used to having his orders followed.

 

 

The intel officer smiled as the company man shifted in his seat. He hated the company man with a passion. He and men like him had turned the military into their own little chess board where everything came down to the bottom line.

He was proud of the Colonel and his men as they took the room. There was no other way to describe it. They didn't enter it nearly as much as maneuvered their way in and took control. Let the pencil pusher chew on that for a while.

 

 

The company man shifted slightly as he compared the men who'd just entered the briefing room with their dossiers

Their leader, Colonel Clay was easy enough to recognize. His graying hair was close cropped, and unlike the intel-photos from the field, his face was clean-shaven. His second in command, a night one, was equally notable: a fine coat of indigo fur only seemed to accent the telltale mensur scar that trailed down the right side of his face. The scar only added to the barely hidden air of danger that surrounded the man. To those who knew the origin of the scar, it spoke of power and strength: a man would unflinchingly face an armed opponent and exchange bladed blows until one or both of them were injured.

He knew he would have to keep an eye on these two, but from the looks of the team's file even the most mundane looking one of the group, one Sergeant Porteous was hell on wheels- literally. The man was rigged to use every vehicle the armed services provided with nothing more than a thought.

No, he would have to watch all of these men very closely.

 

 

When the man made no move to answer his question, Colonel Clay strode forward to meet the company man head on.

"Let me make this easy for you. We are a team, a military unit. We've trained together; we work together as a unit. When you start messing with the team members, you mess with the team and that does very little for our comfort level, let alone our ability to function as a team."

The company man stood, trying to take the wind out of his sails before he took control of the meeting.

"Col. Clay, you and your men are here as a courtesy. You have no part in this mission- other than allowing us to use two of your team members... please keep that in mind and remain civil."

"Oh, I assure you sir, this is Civil," Clay answered, as he began double talking to his team. 'Roque, I need a perimeter sweep. Pooch, cover him then switch, copy?'

Neither man answered, preferring to act rather than waste time. Roque sat down while Pooch stood guard. After a few minutes they switched places.

Clay knew that the magical sweep would require Roque's full attention and used that time to distract the company man. They needed answers. He was, after all, the team leader and as such didn't like being kept in the dark, and he really didn't like having two of his men told to report to the 'lab' for enhancements.

"Your men are perfectly safe, and I've been told the procedures were a success."

"A success?" Clay asked in disbelief. "Jensen has enough hardware in his head to set off metal detectors, and Alvarez is a physical adept... you don't 'enhance' a phys-ad unless you want to seriously screw him over. So unless you're planning on screwing over my men... Success isn't one of the words I'd use."

"Relax Colonel, Alvarez was simply implanted with a heart monitor and transmitter. Nothing that will mess with his natural abilities."

Clay tensed. The way the man worded it, the way he spoke of Alvarez and didn't mention Jensen... something was very wrong and he knew none of them were going to like it.

'Have you found them?' he sub-vocalized to his team.

'Affirmative... They're almost here... and they are not happy...' Roque's answer seemed to echo in his ear.

'Report...'

'Don't know for sure, but judging by their auras... they want to kill someone.'

Clay tilted his head and then turned on his heels and headed for the door. "Keep an eye on him," he ordered as he strode through the door.

Clay didn't have to be a mage to know something was up as soon as he saw his men. Jensen's usual bounce was missing from his stride and Cougar seemed to be doing his best to be the man's shadow.

Knowing he wouldn't get any answers out of the phys-ad, he turned instead to the team's decker. "Jensen... report"

Jensen looked at him and shook his head. "Sucks to be me day."

Clay looked at him then nodded to Cougar. "Cougar, report to the briefing room. Roque will fill you in." Something told him Jensen had a lot more on his mind and may not want an audience.

"Can't boss." Cougar answered in a low voice.

"That was an order..."

Cougar looked up, his eyes meeting Clays head on, pleading. "No sir, I am now... his keeper."

Clay looked at him, trying to put it all together and when he did he did an about face and stormed back into the conference room.

' _Heart monitor with a transmitter my ass!'_ he thought as he felt his blood pressure rising faster than he could dissipate the energy.

"You deadlocked my men!" he demanded upon his re-entry.

He didn't stop as he moved past his men, knowing full well they would flank him and help him no matter what. Jensen and Cougar remained together, unsure of the limits the device put on them and not really wanting to test it.

 

The company man smiled as Clay returned followed by the last two members of his team, The Losers. Jensen was easy enough to recognize with his blond spiky hair, goatee and glasses. Truth be told his current appearance completely matched the pictures in his folder. Alvarez, on the other hand, was sporting hair far longer than military spec somehow managed to look like the inverse book end to his teammate: tanned skin to Jensen's pale tones, dark hair to Jensen's blond. They were a study in contrasts.

He steepled his fingers and smiled. It would have been so much easier if they had worked with him, but he knew there was more than one way to 'deadlock a team.'

"I thought you might feel this way Col. But what's done is done... We need a man with the Corporal's skill set and ... well... we can't risk him falling into enemy hands. What he knows would be damaging enough... but the encryption that's built into his head... no... we can't risk that falling into enemy hands. I'm sure you can understand my position."

Clay drew his gun and aimed it at the man's head. "No, I really can't."

The company man smiled. "Allow me to direct your attention to Sergeant Alvarez..."

Despite himself Clay turned and snarled when he saw the tell-laser sight dot centered over Cougar's heart.

"One shot... they're both gone and neither of us get what we want. Now if you're done playing games..." On his signal 5 corporate MP's entered the briefing room.

"I have a briefing to run."

Clay saw the resigned look on Jensen's face, and the barely hidden look of contempt Cougar spared to the corper playing with their lives. He also saw the hint of a smile cross the phys-ad's face as he thought about having said corper in his sights.

He nodded. They'd play along for now- move when their chances were better.

 

The intel operative knew the moment Clay had resigned himself and his men to the situation. He also knew that this was far from over and no matter how the mission went, there would be repercussions. He prayed he wasn't anywhere nearby when it did.

The corporate man smiled. These military types were so predictable. Even in the day of physical enhancements, they were still easy to manipulate.

"As you may or may not know there has been talk of certain weapons reaching the Yakuza through Amazonia."

"Intelligence was able to get a man in with the cell providing the weapons, but it seems one Oyabun in particular is looking to expand their control of Cal Free State. While CalFree is not our problem... these weapons are.

"We know he keeps his systems isolated, and therefore we need to take a decker to the site. He needs to be able to speak Japanese and your man is tailor made for this mission."

"And the Deadlock?" Clay asked, letting his anger color his voice.

"Consider it an insurance policy... The last thing any of us want is your man falling into the wrong hands... That's why we paired him with your team's sniper... we figured a friend would make a better traveling companion..."

He smiled, making sure they all knew just how considerate he'd been in choosing the man who would serve as the decker's protection and yes, if need be executioner. Regrettable... but at least it would be a friend.

Clay smiled at the quantity and quality of Spanish explicatives that came from Cougar and were echoed in no less than seven other languages by the rest of the team.

"You really didn't think this out did you?"

The corporate man smiled. "Col, I assure you- I have thought this out thoroughly and your men have the best chance of accomplishing this task."

The Intel man winced slightly but held his tongue. Telling the Suit that if their man didn't make it back, he'd never live to see the next day would only serve to warn the corper to take pre-emptive action and he was with the Col. on this.

The corper simply smiled and nodded to the MPs. "Colonel, you and your men are under arrest... consider it... incentive for your men to finish their assigned task.

He turned towards Cougar and Jensen. "I wouldn't want you two... getting lost on your way to the rendezvous point."

Jensen and Cougar stood ready to strike on the Col's command, but the command never came. Instead he stood and nodded to them. "Do what you have to do," he said making it clear that if they ran, he'd understand and accept the consequences.

As they were led away each man met their gaze and nodded, the family would stick by them no matter what.

After the others had been escorted from the room, Cougar looked Jensen in the eyes. This was killing him, but he didn't know if he could follow through with what was to come.

Jensen simply shrugged. "How's the pizza in Amazonia?"

Cougar smiled and nodded, accepting Jensen's decision. They would finish the mission and then, they would deal with the suit.


	2. Chapter 2

 

 'And the trip to Amazonia couldn't be 'hop on a plane and jump into hostile territory' no. It was a freighter, to a trawler, to a puddle jumper to ... you get the idea,' Jensen subvocalized into his comm unit.

Cougar lifted his hat and looked at the decker for a moment shaking his head, before he pointed to himself and raised his eyebrows.

'Yeah, I know you were there Cougs... but I'm letting Clay and the others know.'

'Idiota.. they're out of range.'

'Nah, I boosted the signal and set up a relay through the tracking system.'

'When did you do that?'

'Trawler... or maybe the puddle jumper, I don't remember; you were asleep.'

'So were you.'

'No, I was decked in, there's a difference... now... where was I? Oh yeah...'

'Jensen!'

It felt good to hear the rest of the team on the comm, but he knew he'd have to throttle back the transmissions soon enough. He just wanted to know they were alive, and to let them know he and Cougar were still doing what they could.

 

Clay paced the confines of their barracks; at least they'd been spared the indignity of being held in the brig for the duration of the mission, but they were still under arrest.

They were still forced to sit and wait while two of their number risked their lives in a game of someone else's choosing. Risking their lives was not new to any member of the team, they'd done it all their lives, but to not be there for their brothers- knowing that the people planning the mission only considered the mission, not the retreat, not the evac- it was almost too much.

Jensen's mission recap kept them going, and helped them hang on, but it was hard.

With nothing else to do, Clay began planning the team's mission to 'thank' the corper for his... considerations.

 

 

Four hours later Jensen and Cougar had run through the entire list of possible outcomes five times.

Getting in wasn't the problem. Getting through the enemy, Intruder Countermeasures, or IC: almost as easy. No, the real trick was going to be getting to the evac point without one or both of them ending up dead.

As a matter of fact the only thing going for them was the entire reason they'd been deadlocked in the first place: if anyone figured out who Jensen was, or more to the point his 'skill set' they would want him alive.

It was also why the deadlock monitored Cougar's pulse: as long as he was alive and within range, Jensen was safe, at least from the device.

It was on the start of the sixth reiteration that Cougar smiled and tilted his head as he looked at Jensen, his brows cocked questioningly.

"Y...es...?" Jensen asked drawing it out.

"The devices..." Cougar began.

"Yes..."

"I transmit telemetry: health and location."

Jensen nodded, frowning slightly.

"Your device," he said pausing as he tried to put his thoughts into words. "It receives and as long as it receives these signals... it stands down yes?"

"Yes..."

"So..."

"So?"

"Spoof the signal."

Jensen gave Cougar a sad smile. "Already tried. I can get the signal it's the frequency shifting subroutines I haven't figured out yet. But nice thought."

Cougar shrugged. "There's this guy I know, a decker... he thinks of things like that."

"I'm sure he does."

 

 

They were on another freighter. Jensen was starting to lose track of time, not to mention vehicles and mileage. They spent their time either trying to rest or exploring the limits of the devices. They did at least have an audible warning they issued, for which Jensen was eternally grateful. It meant that if they were separated, they had a chance of getting back together before it all went to hell.

Jensen didn't say anything, but he knew Cougar had noticed how the tone was changing, warbling a little more. They were running out of battery life, and that either meant they would shut themselves off and everything would be fine or, more likely, the receiver would stop and so would Jensen.

They stayed close together after that.

 

 

Cougar was beginning to wonder if they'd ever reach the rendezvous point without him killing someone. Jensen's constant optimism had started to waver and the situation was wearing on both of them.

He knew the mission could be their last; it was a fact they each faced every time they took an assignment, but this... this was... having a time bomb ticking in your best friend's head, knowing that one misstep and it was all over was bad enough.

He could only imagine what it was like for Jensen. The third night on the freighter he smiled and looked at Jensen.

"Can you get Clay and the others on the line?"

Jensen nodded warily. "Why?"

"I have an idea and I need to talk to Roque."

 

 

'Hey, guys, we've almost made it to the rendezvous point and it seems they weren't entirely up front with us about this mission.'

Any other time, any other situation Roque would have pointed out the obviousness of Jensen's comment.

'Talk to me, Jensen,' Clay transmitted, signaling Roque and Pooch to take it easy on the decker.

'Actually boss, Cougar needs to talk to Roque... and maybe Pooch...'

'About what?'

'About bio-power and battery operated devices.'

Clay closed his eyes. Bio-power and battery questions were not a good mix when you were talking about devices you keep from exploding by feeding them information.

'How long?' he asked wearily.

'No idea,' Jensen answered in typical Jensen style.

'Rouqe,' Cougar broke in. 'Pooch, the devices are losing power. I need some magic and or mechanical advice. Since what I do is actually manipulating my body, would it be possible to redirect my energy... my chi into the device and keep it powered by my body?'

Roque let his breath out slowly and looked at Pooch. Their expressions seemed mirrored; questioning, hoping the other would have a good answer, and the disappointment of realizing there was nothing they could do.

It took Roque a minute to gather himself together enough to answer. 'Sorry, it doesn't work that way.'

He looked at Clay, his expression seeming to say 'give me someone to kill,' but there was no one they could take it out on: not yet.

The silence was painful for all of them.

'You two be careful: keep your heads down, get the job done and get out. We'll be waiting for you.' It was the only thing he could say, and he hoped they got the unspoken message. They would be avenged and nothing would be the same without them.

 

 

When they signed off it was Pooch who broke first, his voice soft and angry.

"We're losing them, and there's nothing we can do about it."

"Suit picked his victims well. Take out our means of finding him and our means of taking him out long range," Roque muttered. "Man thought of everything."

"Except for us," Clay answered as he sighed and closed his eyes.

'They would have thought of that and we all know it,' he added sub-vocalizing into the comm unit. 'We need to find whatever it is he has planned for us and neutralize it.'

At least it gave them something to do.

 

 

There were only so many times you could field strip your weapon, inventory your supplies and check your socks for holes and Jensen had reached his limit.

He looked at Cougar as he sat fine tuning his sights and finally exploded.

"How can you just sit there?" he demanded as he began pacing their quarters. "How can you just sit there and pretend nothing is happening?"

He knew it was an unfair question. He knew Cougar wasn't sleeping any more than he was, but the silent presence for once was not calming or soothing. He needed to know this bothered Cougar: he needed to see it.

"What would you have me do?"

Jensen looked at his teammate in confusion. "Swear? Beat the wall? Something?"

"Jake."

Jensen froze at the utterance of his name, and the emotions behind it.

"I have sworn. Beating the wall? The wall would win. I have been here for you. I will always be here for you and heaven help the man who takes you away from us."

Jensen listened as Cougar spoke his mind filling in what the sniper didn't say. He had been plotting his revenge and doing everything he could to be strong for Jensen, to keep him sane and to keep him alive and the people who had arranged this 'dilemma' would pay in the most interesting of ways.

"You go, I go... but not before I make sure they all are dead." Cougar promised looking up from under the brim of his hat until their eyes met, then he simply nodded and went back to working on his sights.

Jensen sighed and flopped down on his bunk. "Too bad I won't be there to enjoy it."

Cougar remained silent. There was nothing else to say

 

 

Roque found the 'gas leak' after three hours searching.

Pooch found the 'chlorine gas' accident a half an hour later.

Clay found the pound of C4 in the TV set a minute later.

"Well then," Clay said with a smile. "Pooch, I need you to identify the frequency on the triggers for our accidents and monitor them. We'll need to find whoever triggers them if possible."

"That is already done. And if you'll allow me- Jensen set me up with some tools for dealing with wireless detonation... more useful if it's the kind of trigger that's activated by a jacker than say a button pusher- but..."

"Equally useful?"

"Oh yeah."

"In that case, see if you can get something motor pool without paperwork."

"Not. A. Problem," Pooch answered as he put his shades on. "What did you have in mind?"

"High altitude recon. Find the Intel officer, find the suit. Backtrack through footage where you can, but don't try and Jensen it. "

As Pooch headed over to his control boxes, Clay turned towards Roque who smiled at him.

"You want I should take a look around?"

"I want," he agreed. "I'll stand watch. I don't think I need to tell either of you to be careful, but they haven't killed Jensen," after a pause he added, "yet."

Roque's recon determined that there were indeed watcher spirits assigned to them, along with an elemental turning the area between the Corporate MPs and the road into a no-man's land. On the bright side, all the magical intervention was designed not to harm them, just to contain them.

"Nothing like being in a death trap," Clay stated wryly.

"Well," Roque answered, "they did try and think of everything."

Clay gave him a smug smile. "But they aren't Losers."

"What do you have in mind?"

"We're going to need a little something set to go if and when they decide we're no longer useful."

Roque smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that."

"Roque, nothing... too bloody."

He really didn't like Roque's answering smile.

 

 

This was killing him. In all the years he'd known him, Jake had always been the cheerful one, the playful one. It wasn't that he didn't get the danger they were in; he knew all too well how easily it could all be taken from them.

No, there was a joy in Jensen that could not be suppressed, could not be denied. He had a zest for life that seemed to draw everyone in and now Cougar was forced to watch as it slowly faded away.

Nothing he could say, nothing he could do would change it, and when Jensen snapped it broke his heart. His best friend, his only real friend was a dead man walking and he was the bullet that would kill him.

He took the chill that was building in his heart and he used it to fire his plans for the people responsible. When Jensen broke, he was there to pick up the pieces, and when he saw the joy fading in his friend's eyes, he felt the chill turn arctic.

There would be no coming back from this.

 

 

It was late when he finally started to fall asleep. Looking at the ceiling of their cabin, he wondered if they'd even make it to the rendezvous before the device let off its final warning chirp and he was gone. He wondered if it even mattered, if he mattered.

One look at the man in the cot next to his answered the question with a groan; the nightmare was starting again.

"Cougar..." he called, and when Cougar didn't move or answer he sat up. In sleep, wrapped in the threat of nightmares, Cougar's face had changed. The impassive mask he wore when he was working, the flick of his eyes that told you what he refused to say in words were all gone, and in its place was everything he kept hidden. The fears, the insecurities, the pressure he lived with knowing that he was the last line of defense that kept the others alive all showed on his face as he tried to throw off the nightmare that surrounded them.

"Cougs?"

He wasn't sure if Cougar was still asleep or had woken up, but his answer was clear as day.

"Jake... I'm scared."

Somehow that admission helped him relax. "Me too."

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warning: The last bit of this involves a rather unseemly BTL chip (better than life) - Plug it in and its as if whatever's on the chip is actually happening... so... vaguely non-con but not really but well... its all in his head.

 

 

When they finally reached the rendezvous point Jensen and Cougar were more than ready to get to work. It was something they knew and when they were working there was less time to think about what they were up against.

Admittedly it took Cougar longer to calm his breathing and Jensen was more hyper than usual, but the two of them settled down to the briefing with relatively few problems.

They remained calm and professional, at least until they got the details of the op, and more importantly their cover, then all bets were off.

"No one must ever know about this," Jensen said as they prepared themselves for the details of their cover assignment.

Cougar looked up at him, his eyes shadowed by the brim of his hat. It was obvious no one would ever hear it from him.

"Yeah, you're right," Jensen added. "I wouldn't either."

"Will you two hurry up on there? This was supposed to be me driving into the city to pick up..."

"Don't say it," Jensen growled at the undercover agent. "Don't ever say it..."

"What? Joyboy?" The man asked throwing out the term for male prostitute as if it meant less than nothing.

'He is so dead,' Jensen swore to Cougar over the secure channel.

Cougar's eyes danced dangerously as he thought about exactly how the agent was going to meet his maker.

'Just take a deep breath. It's a cover nothing more. It's a testament to your acting ability nothing ... else...' His sentence trailed off as he saw the 'costumes' the agent had provided.

"Oh... kay..." Jensen said aloud as he looked at the Capri pants and overly ruffled satin shirts in the bag.

Cougar looked up and shook his head. "No! No, no, no, no, no!"

Jensen let his breath out slowly. He knew he could pull it off if he had to, but Carlos...

"Cougar, listen to me," he said keeping his tone even. "This is the only chance we have right now. Sure we could probably work out a better cover to get us in, but that would take time"

He paused for effect before adding, "Time I do not have."

He hated playing that card, but if it got them through the mission and heading for home he was all for doing whatever it took- even looking like a perverted cabana-boy.

"I cannot do this," Cougar said slowly. "I do not have the cajones to pull it off."

"Cougs..." Jake shook his head. The real problem was Cougar exuded masculinity, and it was just a part of who he was. He didn't try to be macho, it was simply there, and the women loved it. This was... this was so not Cougar.

"How," Cougar asked, his eyes pleading. "How can I do this and not get us both killed?"

Jensen frowned, knowing there was one thing Cougar could do that would really sell this role, but he couldn't ask it of his friend. He just couldn't.

Cougar tilted his head, watching Jensen intently. "What?"

"What 'what'?"

"I saw you think of something."

"No."

"Jensen. You are right. This is our best chance- tell me how I can do this and not blow our cover?"

Jake closed his eyes and let his breath out in a short burst. "No."

"¿Que?

Jensen gave Cougar a very uncomfortable look before blurting out, "Youcouldshave."

Cougar looked at him then bowed his head. Resigned, he held out his hand.

"Hand me the razor."

 

 

The one good thing Jensen could think of in all of this was the fact that no one would ever recognize them. At least they wouldn't recognize Cougar. Shaved, and still dealing with the whole process, Cougar looked like he may have been all of eighteen, young, lost and unsure of himself.

It suited the role they were playing, but Jensen hated to see that lost look on Cougar's face. He hated what Cougar was being forced to do and at the same time he felt honored that his friend was willing to go through this for him.

As they emerged from the changing area the undercover agent stood and smiled. Jensen wanted to throttle the UC especially when he leered at Cougar.

"And you two thought you couldn't pull it off," he said as he continued to ogle Cougar.

Jensen stood between them. "Hey! Eyes here," he said forcing the man to look him in the eyes. Jensen let the facade drop giving the man a good view of just what he'd awoken in Jensen.

"Any harm comes to him, you're a dead man."

The undercover agent rolled his eyes. "You wanted in, you're in. Everything else is up to you, but if you want my advice: it's going to be a lot easier if you drop the attitude. Men we're going to see are going to want to do a lot more than ogle, and your friend here is very ogle-able."

 

 

Jensen, usually a ball of energy, was spending more and more of his time trying to keep an eye on Cougar. Clean-shaven and out of his element, Cougar seemed to attract the Oyabun's men, which only seemed to make him more nervous.

Their first night there had been the safest. The Oyabun had his staff take blood samples to test for any communicable diseases and aside from a rather dehumanizing medical exam they and joygirls had been left alone.

Now, two days later, their tests had come back and the guards were circling like sharks in a seal tank. They hadn't found the computers and Jensen knew they were running out of time.

As the men started settling in for the evening with their 'guests', Jensen lost sight of Cougar. He started to panic, concerned for his health and mental well being, and then he heard the warning alarm.

He felt his stomach all but drop as he tried to determine where the signal started to fade. It took him three minutes, teetering this way and that to finally get the warning signal under control.

He let his breath out slowly; then started to panic again when he realized he was in the middle of a bedroom corridor.

'Cougs?.' He called out tentatively over the secure comm-line. "Where are you? What's happening?'

 

 

'Cougs?'

He shivered as he felt hands running down his sides, toying with him, taunting him.

Something was wrong, but he didn't know what. He hated it. He wanted more. He tried to concentrate on his breathing, but the sensations, both beautiful and horrible seemed to consume him, to overwhelm him until all he could do was submit.

And then he heard it, like a lifeline, someone... calling.

'Cougs?' He latched onto the signal trying to use it like a shield against the raging sensations and emotions that seemed to force their way into his brain.

It took him three tries to activate the comm, and every time he tried to speak he felt wet lips pressing against his.

'Jensen... help.'

'Where are you?'

'I do not know,' he answered trying to keep the images at bay. "Undercover Agent... AC... knows... Help!'

 

 

His friend's plea was enough to spur Jensen into action. The assignment didn't matter, the case didn't matter, the only thing that mattered was getting Cougar out of this place.

There were six doors in the corridor and any one of them could be the one where Cougar was. He forced himself to calm down, drew a deep breath as he'd seen Cougar do a thousand times before when he prepared to shoot; when he calmed his breathing. Jensen knew he had to be calm.

'Cougar, I need you to talk to me,' he urged. 'I need you to keep transmitting. I'm trying to find you, but it's going to take a bit... okay?'

'Jensen, I don't know.' Cougar's subvocalized words were slow and hesitant as if they'd been pulled from deep within him. 'Please... Mierda, no... Please... I...'

Jensen could feel his anger and pulse rate increase as Cougar's transmission dissolved into a series of pleas.

He focused on the signal rather than the words, trying to divorce himself from whatever was happening to Cougar, so he could find him.

Triangulating in a hallway was hard enough- but knowing that your best friend was in danger only made it that much worse. He wasted precious minutes making sure his calculations were correct. If he was wrong, the entire complex would be alerted and they would both suffer a far worse fate.

He pressed his ear to the door and heard Cougar moan in a combination of fear and pleasure. The sound tore at Jensen's heart. He was about to act without thinking when he heard other voices in the room.

"How long?"

"According to the clerk, this is one of the hottest BTL's on the market. You let him finish this, he won't know up from down, let alone what's real anymore."

Jensen's jaw dropped as he shook his head in disbelief. The undercover? The undercover agent had hooked Cougar into a BTL session?

He felt sick to his stomach. Better Than Life chips were worse than drugs in most cases. He knew that without a data jack, without piping the simulated images directly into his brain, it wouldn't be quite as bad as it could be, but the stuff was plain evil. It fed all the sensations, all the impulses and emotions of a real experience directly into the person's brain, tricking it into believing the sensations it was receiving were from their own body: virtual reality at its most invasive, and addictive as hell.

He shook his head and grabbed the door handle. He was surprised when he found it was unlocked.

He snarled, a feral smile coming to his face, as he eased the door open and slipped inside. He killed 'how long' without as much as a thought to what he was doing. Then he was staring at the UC agent through his gun sights.

"He was endangering the mission," the agent explained. "I just wanted to loosen him up a little, you know, get him to relax."

"Relax this," Jensen answered in disgust as he fired three shots into the UC's head. The man had been warned. He quickly locked the door and moved closer to Cougar.

 

 

Cougar lay on a mat, a wire mess encircled his head, locking him into the images being fed into his brain from the BTL chip. Jensen studied the device, knowing all too well what just pulling him from the system would result in something far worse than the dumpshock a decker would experience being pulled from the matrix without the intermediate phases.

As a decker he had experienced dumpshock: it was disorienting at best, nauseating at worst, but the BTL rig? He shuddered.

Jensen ran a hand through his hair as he tried to weigh the options. Waiting for the chip to end was like sitting there while your best friend was being taken by force, but pulling it would be like yanking his brain out of his body and he didn't know what it would do to the Physical Adept's body-mind connection. He had heard of people dying from the shock.

He paused for a minute before reactivating his comm.

'Cougs, you hear me?'

'Jensen... please... make them stop. '

'Cougar, listen to me,' he said slowly, forcing himself to remain calm. 'You are not with anyone. Someone thought it was a good idea to hook you into a BTL device.'

He paused giving his words time to sink in. "Do you copy'

'Then.. the fucking... is with my head... no?"

It took Jensen a moment to decipher Cougar's thinking.

'It is. I need you to take control. I need you to use your training and divorce yourself from the sensations. Concentrate.'

'I am going to kill the... '

He watched as the feeds from the output overrode Cougar's connection to reality. His hand hovered over the mesh as he looked at the timer and realized the BTL's simulation had three more minutes to go.

'Cougs. It's over in three minutes. Can you ride it out?'

'I... do not... know...' Carlos answered as his breathing became more and more erratic.

 

 

Jensen looked over at the dead undercover agent, wishing he hadn't killed him, just so he could do it again, now.

Three minutes had never seemed this long in Jensen's entire life. The closest had been a time when he'd been shot, and the team had to get to him to pick him up. During that time Cougar had kept in contact- kept him connected to reality and the mission by talking to him.

It was the most the enigmatic sniper had ever spoken at one time, and it had kept Jensen sane and grounded.

Now he tried to do the same thing for Cougar. He babbled incessantly about anything and everything he could think of, anything but the nightmare his friend was going through now.

He hadn't understood the worried, haunted look Cougar had when they'd found him. Now he did. In staying in contact with him, Cougar had endured at least a portion of the same nightmare.

As the chip ended, the light turned green Jensen all but ripped the mesh away.

'Cougs... talk to me. Please.'

Cougar opened his eyes, relief, fear and something so visceral Jensen couldn't name it had shown there, before he turned on his side and threw up.

Jensen moved to put a comforting hand on the sniper's back only to have him growl 'Do not touch me!' over the comm channel.

Jensen backed away, wanting to protect Cougar, knowing he could not undo what the chip had put him through. It hadn't really happened, but the sensory rig had made it real- it lied to the brain... it messed with the balance between body and mind that the Physical Adepts trained to maintain.

'Cougar. Please listen to me: It. Wasn't. Real.'

The phys-ad said nothing, but Jensen could hear the hitch in Cougar's breathing, the sudden intake of air as he recovered from something so real, so painful, so primal that the aftershocks still went through his body.

It was then that Jensen realized it might as well have been real.

 


	4. Chapter 4

Jensen stood watch as Cougar worked his way through what had happened. He could see him taking inventory, trying to re-synch his mind's connection to his body; matching what his body told him to what his mind told him. On more than one occasion he would roll over and throw up and each time Jensen moved towards him, he was warned away.

On one level he understood what Cougar needed to do but he also knew he'd failed his friend. With nothing else to do, he moved the bodies deeper into the room so anyone passing by wouldn't see them.

Then he picked up the BTL rig and threw it into the corner. When he found the cover for the chip, he almost threw up himself as Cougars' pleas came back to him: 'please...make them stop...'

Them.

He looked at the undercover agent and swore. The man had gotten off way too easy, and Jensen began wondering if he could find someone to bring the man back just so he could kill him again- or maybe lock him into the BTL rig on constant replay.

 

Cougar winced as he moved then froze as he forced himself to reach out to his body and to listen to it rather than his mind. He knew he was worrying Jensen, but hell... he was worried too. In training they had ingrained in him distrust for medicines that blocked the body's ability to report how it truly felt so the brain could process it and BTL...

BTL in this case was 'Worse Than Live'. At least if it had been real he wouldn't have to concentrate so hard on getting his mind and body on the same page. In the back of his mind he knew they were running out of time and that the murdered men would not go unnoticed long.

There was no doubt in his mind that the man was dead. Jensen had promised as much, but now his own mind was the enemy. He had to let his body tell his mind what had really happened- and that would take time.

Finally he rolled to his knees. He could sense Jensen hovering, unsure what to do for him. Finally he let out a long breath and looked at his friend. The look of disgust almost made him close his eyes, but instead he met Jensen's gaze, realizing the disgust wasn't with him- it was with what had been done to him.

He gave Jensen a relived nod as he stood and staggered to a chair. "Water... please..."

He smiled when Jensen returned with two glasses, one filled with water and the other empty. "Gracias..."

 

Jensen watched worriedly as Cougar tuned everything else out and focused on the water and getting rid of the taste of bile. After a few rinses he nursed the glass of water, concentrating on re-hydrating himself.

Jensen gave a sad smile as he saw Cougar sitting there with his head resting against one hand while the other automatically raised the glass of water to his lips. He'd seen that pose many times after they had been out drinking.

He pursed his lips as he tried to figure out what to say, but there were no words for the royal cluster frag this mission had become.

 

Cougar closed his eyes, allowed himself to feel the water as it flowed through his system, renewing, cleansing... Only his mind rebelled... telling him of the horrors he had faced, it was a lie, but his mind couldn't accept it for what it was, a very good simulation.

Now would come the hard part. He knew if he did not do this- it would come back to haunt him and Cougar had enough ghosts dogging his heels.

Finally he looked up, looked at Jensen. "Jake,' he said quietly. "I need you to help me..."

Jensen was startled by the lack of emotion in Cougar's tone, but he moved closer. "What do you need?"

Cougar smiled at him, but it was a sad smile at best. "I need... I need to take myself through what happened again. I need to make my mind... listen to my body."

Jensen gave Cougar a worried look. "Really?"

"Really."

"And what do you need from me?"

Cougar rested his hand on Jensen's shoulder.

"To stand beside me... to stay here... to remind me that this... " Cougar answered gesturing between them. "That this is what is real.. that the simulation lied..."

"If I tell you to let go... do not..." he added firmly. "I need you to ground me in the here and now so I can face what my mind remembers and show it for the lie it is... No matter how scared, how angry, how hurt I may sound... do not let go."

Jensen let his breath and nodded. He blew his breath out slowly and stepped forward then paused. "Cougs... why don't we sit on the couch. Something tells me this is going to take a while- and we're going to want to be comfortable.

Cougar gave the couch a wary look. He bit his lip and finally nodded. The struggle was not lost on Jensen. He gave Cougar time to adapt and finally move to the couch, all the while cursing himself for not being there for him.

When Cougar nodded that he was ready, he stepped forward and sat down next to Cougar and put his arm around his shoulder. "I'm here Carlos. You aren't alone... not ever."

"Forgive me, for whatever I may say..." Cougar added before closing his eyes and replaying what had happened in his mind.

'Always.'

 

Jensen tried not to listen to the accusations Cougar made. He ignored the blatant insults and the pure pain and rage that poured out of his friend, but he had no way of ignoring the pleas for help, no defense against the pain and guilt it caused.

Cougar was hurting because of him, it was only fair he that suffer as well.

He fought to remain there, steadfast and encouraging but all he wanted to do was track down the UC agent in whatever form he came back as, and empty his gun into the man's head all over again.

When Cougar tried to push away from him, Jensen closed his eyes and held tight. When Cougar whimpered and tried to fight off some unknown attacker, he pulled him into a protective embrace until the storm had passed.

When Cougar got up and ran to the bathroom, Jensen ran after him. When all he had left were the dry heaves, Jensen rubbed his back soothingly.

After what seemed a long time, but was probably only minutes Cougar nodded.

"I think," he said finally. "That my body and mind equally agree that that was.." He shook his head, unable to find the words. After several tries he closed his eyes and simply focused on his breathing.

Once he had himself under control again, he looked up at Jensen. "Do we have time for me to take a shower."

Jensen nodded. "I'll get us some more appropriate clothing."

 

While Cougar showered, Jensen began going through the closets. The UC's tastes, or those of 'How Long's' ran towards the more... interesting, but he was able to find a pair of slacks, a pair of cargo pants a few shirts and some decent 'skulking about clothes.' He quickly picked out two or three of each for Cougar and left them in the bathroom in place of the Capris and ruffled shirt.

Once he'd changed he began cutting the capris into strips and shoving them into the liquor bottles he'd found at the bar area.

He was starting to get worried and was debating about going back in when Cougar finally shut the water off. It took Cougar about ten minutes to dry off and get dressed and finally emerge from the bathroom.

 

He was thankful to see Jensen had changed and that he had found a creative use for the costumes.

"I take it... we are not going for subtle then?"

"Subtle in, blaze of glory exit. Sound like a plan to you?"

Cougar nodded.

"As a friend of mine once said, subtle exits rarely are, so why bother?"

Cougar gave a slight snort. It was music to Jensen's ears.

"I think... I would like this friend."

Cougar did his best to reassure Jensen that he would be all right, but he could still sense the wrongness inside him. He was thankful when Jensen headed towards the bathroom.

There was something the UC had said to lure him here- something he had...

He closed his eyes as he tried to remember what had happened before he'd been forced to...

He closed his eyes as he remembered the sense of rage and betrayal as the man had flashed it in front of him.

He had the remote detonator for the deadlock device and he'd wielded it like a gun to Jensen's head. He'd known Cougar would do whatever it took to keep him from using it and Jensen had never been aware of the threat.

He had complied, hoping Jensen would find him in time, hoping he could do something to take it from the man. He felt himself shudder at the memory. It wasn't some unnamed, faceless man in some office back on post who served as the over seer... it was the UC, someone they were depending on for information and assistance.

He prayed that the mission was real- to have gone through all of this for anything less would have been too much.

He searched the UC and found the small device in his pocket. He quickly deactivated it and placed it one of his own pockets. It was a clue he would need to follow up on.

Jensen didn't need to know- not yet. He somehow knew the decker would never forgive himself for being the reason he submitted to the BTL 'show'.

 

Jensen and Cougar discovered that searching for the computer room and actually finding it were two very different things. Cougar was beginning to wonder if the whole thing hadn't been some sort of elaborate setup.

Jensen on the other hand spent a disturbing amount of time studying the walls as they moved along the corridors.

Finally Cougar nodded towards the walls and gave Jensen a questioning look.

Jensen shrugged, started to say something and then shook his head.

Cougar gave him a long. exasperated look and moved on.

Standing away from the window, Cougar allowed his eyes to adjust to the lights outside the mansion. Jensen passed him, still following the wall when Cougar held up his hand and gestured towards the outbuilding on the far side of the grounds.

Jensen paused, studying the building then nodded. Three guards at the main door definitely indicated something worth guarding. A second look brought a smile to Jensen's face.

'Look at the power lines going in...' he said over the secure comm.

Cougar nodded. 'We need to get outside...'

 

The hallways of the guest wing were isolated from the rest of the building, which was good in that it wasn't really patrolled and bad because it was isolated from the rest of the complex.

The undercover agent was supposed to have helped them with this part of the mission, but even if he were still alive, trusting him was out of the question. They had almost reached the door that led to the 'guest services quarters' when Cougar pulled Jensen back into the shadows.

Relying on sign rather than comms, Cougar signaled 'danger, two men...'

Jensen nodded and moved deeper into the shadows as Cougar prepared to take them out. With a deep relaxed breath, he felt rather than saw the men round the corner. A split second before the light of their flashlights reached his position, Cougar was moving.

He delivered a spin kick to the first guard, using the rebound from the attack to launch into the second man, grabbing him by the head and giving a sharp turn in his hands. His placid expression gave way to a predatory grin as he recognized the guards.

Two more of his tormentors were gone.

Jensen watched as Cougar proved that his body and mind were indeed on the same page. There was no missing the satisfaction in his partner's smile.

As Cougar moved forward to take point, Jensen moved into position, delivering the coup de gras to the first guard. Once the man was down he began rifling through the guard's pockets. The search yielded two AK's, a 9mm, a 10mm and two all important key cards.

When he moved into position with Cougar, he handed him one of the AK's and the 10mm.

Having more than Jensen's pistol made them both feel better, but his pistol was still the one with a silencer.

With a nod they moved on, back tracking the guards' path.

 

After three days of being 'on display' and feeling like the desert cart at a Brazilian Barbecue, getting out into the night air was exactly what Cougar needed. Here, in the dead of night running along the grounds with Jensen to his left was the world he knew" the world he owned.

It was strange not having his sniper rifle, but long hours of cross-training meant never having to fight to mesh with another team member in a different position.

Here he was in his element.

Jensen smiled. He could tell the minute Cougar began running that he was in balance again. There was something poetic when a physical adept's abilities kicked in, and when that physical adept was your shadow- it made you feel like you could fly.

They moved with practiced ease along the hedges, keeping to the shadows. Cougar's movements were graceful and constant as they approached the final obstacle, an eight-foot concrete wall. With what seemed almost a sigh, he eased into the shadows and waited for Jensen to make his move.

Jensen's movements, while less smooth held a poetry of their own. While Cougar seemed to flow through the shadows, Jensen more or less ran over them, a shadow playing in the shadows. Approaching the wall, he pushed harder, picking up speed as he leaned into the run, pushing off the ground he let momentum carry him several steps up the wall taking him high enough that he could reach the top and pull himself up.

Once there he lay flat, ready to help Cougar if need be.

'Go,' he called over the comm unit, but Cougar was already moving.

 

For Cougar it all seemed to meld together, the movement and the obstacle became not adversaries but rather partners in a dance that seemed to defy gravity. The wall was nothing more than a prop in the dance, something to land on as he jumped and scanned the area.

With a smile and a flick of his eyebrows he jumped down and rolled to the side, covering Jensen as he lowered himself to the ground.

Their target was now in sight, as were the three guards at the door.

Cougar's eyes narrowed as he studied the three. Because of the UC agent's betrayal they were operating without the most basic of tools. Instead of Body armor and full electronic camo-gear, not to mention familiar weapons, they were armed with Jensen's pistol, borrowed rifles and borrowed clothes. These did not bother him nearly as much as the lack of body armor.

As long as he could focus he would be able to ignore an injury, possibly even lessen its affect, but Jensen had nothing to protect him other than a pair of slacks and a hoodie.

He drew a deep breath and activated the secure comm.

'Jensen, I want you to hold back...' He began knowing full well the decker would complain. He held up his hand as if to silence him. 'I can deal with the first two. As soon as I'm moving the third is going to aim for me since I'm the obvious threat. I want you to take him out.'

There was silence on the channel as Jensen debated about his plan.

'You're the sniper... let me go for the first two.'

'You have cross-trained Jensen. I can move faster and be on them faster than you can.'

'But...'

'No 'buts'. Line up your shot and take it.'

Jensen shook his head, obviously unhappy with the plan, but he did as Cougar had taught him. He took a prone shooting position and waited for Cougar to make his move.


	5. Chapter 5

Jensen tensed as Cougar laid out his plan. As he saw it there was one gaping hole in the sniper's logic: him.

He had already let Cougar down once and that had cost him dearly. He couldn't stand the thought of failing Cougar again.

Besides, everyone knew snipers were known for being calm and able to sit still for days on end if need be. On a good day Jensen couldn't last more than five minutes without fidgeting.

He did his best to calm his breathing and finally moved into the prone position. He had just begin to relax when Cougar made his move which made him tense up all over again.

 

As Cougar ran time and thought melded once again into the dance. Thought became movement, movement became fluid; fluid became deadly. He flowed around his opponents, catching them up in the dance before they even noticed and dropping them just as quickly.

He could feel the third guard sighting in on him. It was almost as if it were his own finger tightening on the trigger. He remained in position a fraction of a second longer, giving Jensen the time he needed to draw a bead on the guard.

Time stood still as he dropped and two rifles fired within a half a second of the other. Then everything was moving again. He could feel the bullets as they sped toward their marks. The sniper's going where he had been a moment before; Jensen's speeding towards the sniper.

Even as he landed Cougar was moving again, knowing that Jensen's shot was slightly off target. The man would be injured but still able to fire, he had to press his advantage. He drew his borrowed pistol and fired three shots as he stood and the other man fell.

Then everything snapped back into synch as he took up a cover position and waited for Jensen to join him.

 

Jensen swore as he missed his mark and was already lining up a second shot when Cougar took the man down. He quickly scanned the area to make sure they'd taken out all the opposition forces in the area and then moved into place.

He knew it was just a matter of time before the complex was on full alert.

'So much for stealthy in,' he commented over the radio as he settled in next to Cougar.

Cougar gave him a shrug as if to say, 'stealthy in is overrated.'

He nodded in return, but both of them knew they still had to find the isolated node, get whatever information they'd been sent to find and get out in once piece. Things did not look good for the visiting team.

On Cougar's signal Jensen went to work on opening the keypad encoded door to the outbuilding.

Any doubt that they were in the right place vanished the moment Jensen opened the door to the outbuilding.

 

Cougar let out a low whistle as he saw the weapons stockpile in the center of the room. He recognized many of them as banned, outdated and or outlawed by almost every nation. Banned yet secretly stockpiled by some, collected for sale by others.

As Jensen turned to say something to him, every hair on the back of his neck stood up. Without thinking of anything other than his partner's safety, Cougar half ran, half lunged at Jensen. He grabbed him by the shirt as he moved, rolling away from the source of his discomfort he let momentum bring them to rest behind a crate of self propelled rocket launchers, bringing his pistol to bear.

He let out a soft hiss as a bullet splintered one of the crates they'd landed behind.

When Jensen gave him a surprised look, Cougar smiled and gave a relieved sigh . Both of them agreeing that that had been too close.

 

As Cougar maneuvered for a better shot, Jensen scanned the area for possible threats and a data port.

'I count three,' Cougar told him over the secure comm.

'One with the rifle and the two trying to sneak up behind us?'

'Yes.'

"Can you get the one with the rifle?'

Cougar didn't bother dignifying the question with an answer, but he did give Jensen a dour look.

'Yeah, right, stupid question... '

Cougar gave a slow nod as he studied their surroundings. Their opposition had the advantage of knowing their area and planning for its defense. They had skill, training and a very strong desire to see this mission through and have a very long conversation with a certain corporate suit.

Jensen's money was on them.

Cougar did his best to control his rage, but he could feel it seething beneath the surface. When he was fighting it was one thing. It merged with the adrenalin and the pain faded into the background. Sitting and waiting were the worst. He didn't trust himself in his usual position.

It was as if the thought of not moving drove him back to the nightmare they had just left. He had to move and that meant not being pinned down.

He quickly tapped Jensen's shoulder and nodded towards the nearest wall with cover. His meaning clear. Take cover and watch my back.

He could tell Jensen didn't like this plan, but he understood the need. It would do for now.

Once Jensen was secured, Cougar went on the hunt.

 

Jensen tracked Cougar's progress as he moved between the crates and odd collection of ramps and walkways working to establish where their attackers were and where he would need cover.

Countless hours of training, years of serving together, Jensen knew where Cougar would go, how long it would take him to get there, and when he would need cover fire. He fought to keep track of the other players as he studied the area around him.

Watching their movements, he popped up and fired three shots. 'Cougs, they're trying to herd you into the middle...'

'On it,' Cougar answered knowing that the success or failure of this part of the mission would be determined in the next few minutes. 'Keep an eye on the area around you- they know you're there and they haven't moved in that direction yet. Something is going on.'

'Copy that.'

Until Cougar had mentioned it Jensen hadn't thought about it. The warning however came in time as the wall behind him began to open up.

Jensen switched his borrowed weapon to 'burst' and waited.

 

Cougar could feel the battlefield changing around him, his enemies were trying to flank him, maneuver him into an engagement of their choosing. He smiled at that thought. They were playing chess and thinking themselves smart.

He and Jensen weren't playing and their rules for engagement were simple: protect your team, neutralize your enemy, everyone on your side goes home.

He trusted Jensen to watch over him when he could and to take care of himself when the battle came to him. Just as Jensen knew that he would handle his side of the fight.

He smiled as he sensed their private communications.

'Jensen... ' he called over the comms. 'See if you can...'

'Already on it... should have them silent in less than a minute.'

He smiled, then his expression hardened as he realized they'd be trying to do the same to them. Not being able to plan things out verbally wasn't a problem for Cougar and Jensen, but the deadlock device was. If they managed to jam that signal...

'Jensen... if they jam us... jam IT...'

'Oh, that would not be good... working on that...' Jensen's answer was broken by the staccato of gunfire.

 

Jensen didn't like where Cougar's mind was going, if only because it was exactly what his counterpart in the security team was trying to do. He added transmissions on several fake frequencies, imitating both their own commands and his own. He had to put their comms people down hard and fast. He thought of a broadcast signal that would override any of the standard channels and realized doing that was like signing his own death warrant.

He looked into the room that had opened up behind him, and the bodies of the three guards who had tried to take him down. There was no sign of anyone else, but that didn't mean anything. A rigger worth their salt could be anywhere within transmitting range and a decker just had to be within the system.

He paused weighing their options. Communications with Cougar were, for the most part, redundant, he could sacrifice those, but the deadlock device required constant contact. That would make it easier to detect.

One more 'issue' to take up with the suit, if they ever got out of this mess.

He picked a frequency out of the device's range and started sending combat comms transmissions on it. He had to draw their man out and to do that it had to sound good. He was only going to get one chance at this.

 

Cougar shifted his focus. He had to take out these three so Jensen could focus on the signal. Nothing was more important than that signal.

He allowed his sense to stretch out, to feel rather than see the two men who were trying to press him into the sniper's sights.

He scanned his frequencies as he moved, knowing that Jensen would do everything he could to force his opposite number to split his concentration. That meant he had to find the false instructions and join in the conversation.

A one sided conversation was a dead giveaway that it wasn't real. He paused and smiled. It was exactly what they need since all his device did was transmit and all Jensen's did was receive.

He felt a sense of relief as he threw himself sideways into some semblance of cover and felt the sniper's bullet pass overhead where it would have been a killing shot only moments earlier.

As he let momentum bring him around, he fired a shot and heard a grunt from the target area. It wasn't a killing shot- just one that would make the sniper think before taking the next shot.

He was again forced to duck as the other two began firing at him.

As he hunkered down behind a crate he found the false comms and began his own commentary.

'That was close, see if you can work your way around to the left,' he subvocalized into his radio system, now tuned to the wrong frequency.

'Red dog, red dog, this is red bird do you copy?'

Cougar paused, then smiled. Jensen was playing a recording of his side of a mission they'd been on when everything had gone sideways, a conversation he knew Cougar would remember.

'I copy red bird... go ahead.'

'Attackers have been neutralized...'

Cougar held his breath knowing the next part, reminding himself that the pained filled voice was just a recording. The injury was long ago.

'... got through my body armor. Am unable to move from this position. Copy?'

'I hear you red bird, Stay where you are.. will come to you, over.'

'Don't take too long... this hurts like a... Holy... J... Red dog.. hurry...'

'Moving as fast as I can Red Bird. How bad is it?'

'It's pretty bad.'

It had been so much more than just 'pretty bad' and he prayed he didn't have to relive the whole thing just to distract a tech so Jensen could work. He still had two shooters and a sniper to deal with.


	6. Chapter 6

As Jensen worked to find and shut down the opposing comms man before he could do the same to them, he realized that if he was going to have any chance of success he had to come up with something so far out in left field that he'd actually hit them from the right.

He knew all the standard procedures: throw enough road blocks up to confuse the signal, which he'd done, then try and track whoever was trying to shut him down. He smiled, knowing their comms man was doing the same.

His smile broadened as he took one of the downed guards' radios and checked the frequency before he switched to his fake one and began bouncing the recorded transmissions off the dead man's radio.

 

Cougar frowned when he heard his own voice coming across the fake signal. He moved away from the crates, doing his best to track his three targets.

'Hang in there Red Bird. We're almost through this. ETA 3 minutes.'

He smiled. Jensen had recorded his side of the conversation as well and was now, somehow transmitting it on another radio. He drew a deep breath, knowing that was a fight he could do nothing in, but he could try and make things safer for both of them.

All he had to do was let them think they had him long enough for him to prove otherwise.

He caught a movement to his left and another behind him. They were pushing him forward and to the right. He looked ahead and saw the opening where the sniper would take his shot.

He hunkered down and took another shot in the sniper's general direction knowing without looking that the man had moved. These men might be good, but they were guards not hunters, and none of them had ever hunted cougar before.

 

Jensen followed the signal, laying down a false trail as he'd demonstrated at his last military jacker symposium. He'd been up against one of the old-timers and it had only made the challenge that much better. He loved working with and against them. These were the ones who first broke the rules, making an entirely different set.

He'd expected them to stick with their proven 'rules' but instead they pointed out what he already knew- in order to keep from being boxed in... the rules had to change, and as the decker, as the 'jacker' it was up to you to change the rules early and often.

The old-timer he was up against had one hard and fast rule, and it was a tricky one. Her rule was 'I win.'

There was something in that logic he couldn't argue with and therefore he used it here and now. He had to make it his game, and apply that one rule.

He scanned the area, watched the faked frequency and when the jacker went after it, he piggybacked his own set of rules over it.

As he moved in, he got a feel for the decker... a feeling and a name: RadioKills.

He was about to find out that Radio can kill back.

 

RadioKills smiled as he detected the intruder's communications. As he worked to ID and jam the signals to give his team the advantage, he analyzed his counterpart's tactics.

Plain, unimaginative... it fit with the profile of a military decker. Some poor schmuck soldier the army decided would be a decker and drilled them without thinking. It was so much easier to make a decker than to find one who could conform to military life.

He knew that the two were mutually exclusive. You couldn't afford to have a soldier who thought for himself- and that's what real deckers did.

It was almost too easy.

 

Jensen slipped in, not into RadioKill's code in his deck, but into his head. It was one of the few attacks where you were literally inside your opponent's head. He wasn't figuring out how the man thought, but rather coding new thoughts for him.

When you danced so close to the machine- it was bound to rub off on you. It's why people had coding styles, and tended to control the space around them with images that made sense to him.

Some deckers liked to bend the area to their will- Jensen on the other hand just liked bending it, like balloon animals, but what he made were free form twists, turning the imagery and perception into something that would make RadioKill's mind lock long enough for him to cut the signal, trapping the man in an infinite loop inside his own head.

It was wicked, it was insane... and it was totally controlled. As long as RadioKills didn't do anything stupid, he would simply remain locked in the loop until Jensen released it, and he wouldn't do that until the man no longer posed a threat. Simple... logical... elegant.

Radiokills never knew what hit him.

 

One thing every soldier knew, one fact that separated the predator from the prey: sometimes, it all came down to timing.

There was a fine line between herding the prey into position, and being led by the predator to your own doom.

Sometimes it all came down to who struck first, and sometimes the aggressor never realized they'd been played until it was too late.

With his senses fully engaged, Cougar could feel their movements flow around him. They never had the chance to learn the secret to surviving this battle: never corner a wild cat; never threaten that which was his, because you cannot corner a ghost.

He led the two 'herding' him into the sniper's kill zone into a kill pocket of his own, trapping them against each other, he struck while they had each other in their cross fire. All it took was the split second when they realized they'd slipped up.

He shot them both while they fought not to kill their own man. He moved without thinking avoiding the first body while tracking the second as it fell backwards into the sniper's kill zone. Cougar could feel the sniper lining up his shot and as he broke cover, Cougar struck. The sniper died before he'd even realized he'd been tracking his own man.

Cougar stopped only long enough to be sure he'd eliminated the threat, and then he was back with Jensen, analyzing their situation.

 

Jensen didn't even bother looking up as Cougar joined him. He knew there were only two possible outcomes of the fight, and since he was still breathing himself, he knew Cougar was alive, and that meant the rest of the guards were not.

At least there was some advantage to the deadlock device.

As Cougar settled into a protective position Jensen simply nodded to the central computer. "That's where they want me to plug in, he said with a slightly bemused look on his face.

"Where they 'want' you to?" Cougar repeated.

Jensen nodded. "Have you noticed that they've been ready for us since before we got here?"

"Honey pot?"

"No... well, maybe. I mean, any good trap is baited with a real prize, but... I think it was more a case of someone killing two birds with one stone. Come up with a plausible way to get the information leaked-get the bad guys taken out in the process and you and I die heroes. Or... end up in someone's private collection, either us specifically. Us or a team like us."

"How so?"

"I don't know-this whole setup was rigged for a decker- physical adept team to get in and get the job done. No magic, per-se. Just a bod and a brain. We die, that's one thing-but if they think we're dead, we get a hero's send off and they get some pretty nasty skills."

"But no one can control either one of us..."

"Yeah, they've done an excellent job of that already haven't they?"

"But what can they..."

"Cougs, if a corp is running it, they can pretty much make me a wage slave, work for them like a good little decker and get all the toys I want, or suffer... badly."

He left it at that. There was no need to contemplate what they would have done with Cougar.

"And the data?"

"Oh, there's something here all right. I got it out of their decker before I locked him in his own brain."

When Cougar cringed, Jensen looked at him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Everything he sees and hears in there is of his own making," Jensen said evenly. "Nothing added, nothing... well... unless it was there already..."

"So..."

"We have the real data, we get ourselves out of here. Blow the lid off this thing and keep ourselves from becoming casualties.

"And what exactly is 'this thing?'"

Cougar drew a deep breath as Jensen pointed out the origins and destinations of several of the crates, then called up the contents on his hand held. Weapons, both chemical and biological, designed to take out certain variants of the human race, leaving only pure Homo Sapiens Sapiens; research into the nature of magic and how to control it; propaganda and weapons for almost every hate group known to the awakened world...

It spelled out one thing and one thing only- global destruction and restructuring with corporations and governments falling under one blanket ruling party, and unless Cougar missed his guess that blanket ruling party was Humanis, a group that was very well known to be pro-human, anti metahuman.

"You got this from their decker?"

"Well... from his account. He's very good at what he does, very organized, just never expected to be breached. He was convinced that he could beat us."

Jensen shrugged. He'd seen it before, people who set themselves up for defeat by pigeon holing their opposition. Making assumptions about someone in a world as volatile as the matrix was just asking for trouble.

"He's just not good at fighting what we do... and you should know that Humanis... that's the nice end of things. This has 'Cult of Man' written all over it so we aren't just talking about putting Homo Sapiens Sapiens on top and keeping them there. They're talking about taking out the awakened and building a better world on their backs."

"But he..." Cougar said gesturing towards RadioKills.

"Is a dwarf... yeah, I never said they made sense. They're radicals and sometimes you go to extremes to protect what you believe."

"Even going against what they believe."

"Trust me Cougs, when it comes to Policlubs, it's best to just nod until you can get the hell out and take them out from a distance."

"Oddly enough," Cougar reminded him. "That's the way I prefer to work."

Jensen smiled. "And unfortunately they're a paranoid bunch, so we can't send the files from here. Going to have to make that less than subtle exit we were discussing.

Cougar nodded as he stowed away more ammo for the AK, and took the sniper's rifle.

As they worked their way through the outbuilding they collected weapons and ammo. After the first attempt at the body armor they gave up. Each unit was specifically designed for the wearer and actually linked their telemetry to the main computer.

"Great, just great," Jensen muttered to himself. "We have to invade the one high tech lair in the area where body armor's wired into the system..."

"We grab what we can- get out of here."

"I know the drill," Jensen assured Cougar. "I just don't like the fact that they know the drill too and seem to be doing everything they can to make our jobs difficult."

"That is why we are paid the high nu-yen."

"You get paid extra for this? How did I not get the memo on that?"

Cougar paused in his search to look over at Jensen and shake his head.


	7. Chapter 7

It had been three days since they'd heard from Jensen, and indirectly Cougar. In that time they had gotten no closer to finding out who the Suit was than they had that first day.

They had managed to keep eyes on him, and he hadn't tried to kill them... yet. But Clay wanted more: he needed more.

"Losers," he called as Roque finished cooking dinner and Pooch had disconnected from the drones he'd be circulating around post.

"You know Clay, we're right here, and without Jensen and Cougar we're pretty much... you, me and Pooch."

Clay sighed and shook his head. 'Jake isn't here so someone has to act out on his behalf,' he thought to himself. He took a deep breath and started again.

"Pooch, were you able to find anything on the 'accidents' we were going to have?"

Pooch shrugged. "Aside from the fact that no one's tried to trigger them... yet... nothing."

Clay nodded. "Which means Cougar and Jensen are probably still in play so he needs us alive, that means he's probably been working on trumping something up... The longer this drags on the longer he has to bury us."

He turned to Roque. "Your watcher spirits find anything out?"

Roque rolled his eyes. At least Clay had gotten the terminology right. "He's got magical surveillance pretty much blocked Clay. The places he goes are corporate run. May as well have a waiting room outside for the watchers for all the good they've done."

Clay nodded. "Then I think it's about time we paid him a visit..."

 

Once Cougar had finished scavenging what he could, Jensen hooked himself into the guest house's electrical system and activated a countdown timer on the alarm clock in the UC's quarters.

Soon it, coupled with the remains of their 'cabana boy' outfits and the stock from the UC's bar, would create a very worthy diversion, if not just some sheer mayhem. Once he was finished he made sure that the house's alarm was hooked into the local fire department's dispatching system. He figured the more people coming in and out of the area, the better their chances of getting out.

"Diversion is set for five," he told Cougar as he packed up his gear and prepared to move.

Cougar nodded. It was time for them to get into position.

 

Pooch flexed his fingers and smiled to himself. Most people thought a rigged vehicle with the driver hooked into the systems controls from the driver's seat was the safest mode of transportation in the world, barring of course something happening to the driver.

As he finished scanning the local systems pinpointing the vehicle in question's signature he smiled to himself: those people would be wrong.

As far as anyone knew the local system was secure and contained- inaccessible from the outside, but these peopled tended to forget that many rigged vehicles were set up for dual control, remote and internal, and too many riggers either forgot or never thought to turn off the remote controls when they were sitting in the driver's seat. They were in control, they were hooked in- no one could wrest control from a rigger inside his own vehicle, it was simply impossible.

But it was possible. Not only was it possible, Pooch had done it before. That ability, along with his particular application, was what had earned him a spot on Clay's team because, although the Post Commander knew Pooch had done it- he couldn't exactly prove it especially since everyone knew it was impossible.

Let's face it stealing a car from the motor pool was easy enough, but everyone who ever had had been caught sooner or later. Stealing that car out from under a rigger's control and taking said vehicle down 'The Block' where all the hookers hung out... with the General inside: that was the thing of legends.

He gave Clay the thumbs up and went to work.

 

Clay watched the monitors as Pooch took control of the suit's vehicle. He had to smile at the frantic efforts the suit's driver made to regain control, but if there was one thing Pooch specialized in, it was modifying rigged vehicles to the point that their original designer couldn't control them. The motor pool rigger never stood a chance.

"Outstanding," he said, knowing that while the rigger couldn't hear him directly, his equipment was set to record and translate his voice into data that would make sense. "Bring him over to the firing range..."

 

Jensen resisted the urge to sit and watch the mayhem he'd created. The alcohol fueled fire had given it a decent start; the location, being in the heart of the guest wing, gave it the added benefit of panicking 'celebrities' and their guests not to mention the chaos of having personal guards trying to run roughshod through the compound's security in the interest of protecting their bosses.

It helped that water that had originally failed to come out of the sprinkler system had suddenly drawn on the building's heating system for water. Water was water as far as the system was concerned and the controls were never designed to check the temperature of the water being fed through the sprinklers.

Fear of fire was quickly replaced with screams of pain as overheated water was sprayed over everyone who remained in the building. It only made them move that much faster and added that much more panic to the already confused scene.

It did his heart good to see the same men who had made a sport of keeping Cougar on his toes jumping through hoops to save their own.

'Let's get out of here,' Cougar said over their secure channel as he nodded towards the opening created by the fire department.

After everything they had been through, walking out seemed anti climatic but they still had a job to do. The information had to get out and to do that, they had to get to their gear at the rendezvous point. All they had to do was escort one of the injured parties to a waiting triage area and fade into the background.

It was one of the most unsubtle subtle escapes he had ever been a part of.

 

Clay was about to step into the shielded area created by Roque's 'countermeasures' - a trio of Earth Elementals, when Pooch disconnected himself from the control rig.

"Clay... we've got a problem. Someone's just tried to punch our ticket on that no return flight."

"You tag them?"

Pooch nodded. "Whoever it was is jacked in so yeah, we got him. It'll be a little while before things start happening to him, but he's still here waiting for the end result."

Clay turned to Roque. "I believe this is your bailiwick?"

Roque smiled. "Gentlemen..."

As he spoke Rogue gestured towards the elementals. "We'll be going under no-man's land today... Pooch, give us three minutes on the timer. We should be clear by then."

Pooch quickly activated his own timers on the gas leak and chlorine gas accidents and stepped within the circle. He gave Roque an accusatory look as the elementals immediately began shifting them through the floor and deep underground at a high rate of speed.

"Oh, hold onto your lunches... it's a bit..."

 

Jensen sat below the rise reviewing the information they'd gathered. It was the only way he could think of not fidgeting while Cougar watched the rendezvous point for signs of activity. Occasionally he would turn to scan the area for any sign of pursuit but from the looks of things they'd gotten away clean.

'Cougs,' he called on the radio.

'Another ten minutes Jensen.'

Jensen flopped back on the ground. 'Ten minutes... might as well be ten years.'

Cougar smiled at Jensen's whine, thankful that some things would never change.

 

Pooch fell to his knees coughing as the elementals finally released them well away from the now blown out remnants of their barracks. "Roque..."

Roque looked at him innocently as he did his best to brush the dirt from his fur. "If I had warned you-would you have come?"

Pooch glared at him and finally shook his head before focusing on Clay. "What now Col.?"

"Well... I think it's safe to assume someone thinks we're now more of a liability than anything. That means Cougar and Jensen have most likely finished their assignment..."

Pooch waited while Clay thought about their next move. "Release the suit... let him think he's won."

Roque blinked. "Let him think he's won?"

Clay smiled. "He thinks we're dead. Which means he'll stop trying to kill us long enough for us to work on our next move."

"And our next move is..."

Clay smiled as he put on his sunglasses. "We're going to get our men back. Pooch, we're going to need something with some long range travel possibilities..."

Pooch shrugged. "Okay, but you're going to have to be the one to tell Jensen about his action figure collection."

 

As Cougar sat and watched he could feel a shudder go through him, he forced himself to remain calm as images flashed through his mind and he could feel sensations that did not match his current position.

'This is not happening,' he told himself. 'This is not... real...'

What scared him even more than the sensations was the way he wanted to feel them. He shook his head and forced himself to focus on their surroundings. Jensen was counting on him.

He knew what he had to do.

'Jensen, you're clear... get down there, send the message, grab our gear and meet me back here.'

'You're not coming in?'

'Someone has to stand watch.'

He would rather it was Jensen standing watch because then he would be moving, but Jensen had the information and the know how to get it out. He was the one who would have to sit, and sitting meant dealing with the ghost images in his mind.

 

Jensen frowned as Cougar signaled him ahead. There was something in the way he was moving that was just wrong. He closed his eyes and forced himself to work the current problem. It was obvious that Cougar didn't want to talk about it, and that told him all he needed to know.

He was dealing with what had happened back at the compound, but only just.

He started to say something then thought the better of it and did as directed. The sooner they were evac-ed out the sooner they could find someone to help him deal properly with what happened.

He quickly checked the area within the tent and was relieved to find everything as he'd left it. He dumped the information from his head-ware to his deck and prepped to send a tight beam back to base.

As it began transmitting he hacked the comm satellite he'd been using to boost his signal and transmitted the information to a blind account before contacting Clay.

 

'Boss, we got the intel. I've transmitted a copy to my blind account. Pooch should have directions on how to access it.'

Clay smiled when his comm unit suddenly sparked to life. 'J, how are you? Why have you sent a copy to yourself?'

'Inside man was inside all right, but I'm thinking he was in the wrong side, or on his own side, but either way... he fragged us hard Col. Not taking any chances...'

Clay froze, hearing the distress even through the manic transmissions from his decker. 'Jensen?'

'Not enough time boss, they'll be on us as soon as they detect the transmission... going dark'

'Wait...'

But it was too late, Jensen had already shut down his communications.

He thought for a moment and shook his head. If Jensen had just sent the information-then someone already knew they'd gotten it. He was beginning to wonder just how many sides this thing had.


	8. Chapter 8

Jensen allowed himself a moment to breathe. The nightmare was almost over. They just had to get to the evacuation point before the battery failed. For the first time since he'd woken up in the recovery room of the Post Hospital he felt hope.

He reminded himself that the job wasn't over until he was in recovery and he avoided thinking about the fact that just because they'd finished the assignment didn't mean that their ride home was going to be there.

He grabbed their bags and Cougar's rifle and paused. 'Cougs, we good?'

'Clear.'

On Cougar's signal Jensen headed back up to the area where his teammate was waiting. He hoped having his own things would help Cougar feel more like well... Cougar.

 

 

Clay swore as he paced the tarmac. Once Pooch had decoded Jensen's files he knew there would be no individual rescue.

This was bigger than all of them.

"You're sure this is the information Jensen sent?"

Pooch rolled his eyes. "Clay-I'm not exactly a novice here. Jensen set things up and gave me access to his blind drop, in case something happened to him."

"And the person who triggered the explosions in our barracks?"

Pooch smiled. "Jensen has everything set so that If he has to track someone-all he has to do is tag them through the port: small insertion code... once that is attached to their ID, it tags their hardware, filters on their datajack. Trigger the download, and it updates itself along with tracking information and the latest version of a program that will simulate flatline on whoever's running it. He had a specific version attached to our barracks set to tag anyone coming in. There's only been one."

"All right. Here's the plan. I meet with the intelligence officer. Roque, stay here with Pooch. Watch over him. Pooch, you get that intel to every interested party. UCAS, CAS, NAN, the Tirs: Anyone and everyone. Someone squashed Jensen's report and I'm not taking any chances. If the Intel Officer is on the up and up he'll do the same."

"You do know that if he's not on the up and up..." Roque began.

Clay smiled and held his hands out to his side. "Then you're in charge... track this down... start with the Jacker who hacked our barracks... and kill the suit."

Roque smiled. "You know I will."

Clay smiled. He did indeed.

 

 

In the end it was the intelligence officer who contacted Clay. Somewhere between the squelched report and the ruined barracks, the man had pieced things together enough to know that he needed to go looking for the Losers.

While there was no way he could have followed the elemental's path, the man was not without means. In the end he simply transmitted a simple un-encoded message: 'meet me at the motor pool.'

Clay had a hard time suppressing a smile when the officer stealthed his way inside the motor pool's perimeter and all but squealed like a little girl when he was startled to find Clay already there and waiting.

If the situation hadn't been so serious, Clay probably would have laughed. He gave the man a minute to gather his wits before beginning.

"You called this little get together, want to fill me in?"

"I didn't like what the corporate liaison did, but I understood his motivation, your men were a good choice for the assignment, but when he had you under house arrest and then the house blows up... well, where I come from things like that are never coincidental."

"Here either," Clay admitted.

"Glad you and your team made it out all right."

"Well, you know how it is- when you're caught up in a web of conspiracy its best to start researching every angle."

The agent nodded. "I'm guessing I shouldn't worry about protecting you and your men?"

"Already taken care of. But we have something you should see," Clay said handing the agent a print out of Jensen's findings.

He waited as the intel officer reviewed the documents. Judging by the way he flipped through the document several times, focusing and cross checking several references, Clay knew the officer was familiar with the case if not the results.

"We've had several teams working on this trying to track down missing and misappropriated hardware and your boys just put them to shame. Question is- why am I hearing this from you and not through official channels?"

"That," Clay informed him. "Is a very good question."

"I'll get my people on this," he answered then looked at Clay for confirmation.

"That copy is yours," Clay assured him.

"You've made copies?"

"And disseminated them to pretty much all our contacts. This is the sort of thing that needs to be dealt with swiftly and decisively. Something that needs to be unilateral and tell whoever is behind this that the world is against them."

"You're talking something very... unsubtle."

"I'm talking universal."

The officer nodded. "As you said, swift, decisive and unilateral. Sounds like a plan to me."

 

 

As Clay headed out, Pooch went to work analyzing the data from Jensen's tracking system. The tracking program rated the decker as 'Fair' before supplying the necessary information. Pooch looked at the report and shook his head. The source was corporate, but the libraries and binderies screamed 'modified military spec software and hardware.

Looking at the report he had to chuckle. The analysis was pure Jensen.

Hardware: Light modifications, Fuchi Deck, late model - above my pay grade  
Softs: Proprietary milspec standard issue, not our level  
Style: Roque, on a bad day  
Skill level 01: Subject vs. Me: grape vs bowling ball.  
Skill level 02: Subject vs. Pooch: Orange vs bowling ball.  
Skill level 03: Subject vs. Cougar: my money's still on Cougs  
Skill level 04: Subject vs. Roque: Would you like some fries with that?  
Skill level 05: Subject vs. Clay: Outstanding.

That left finding the Jacker when he settled down for more than three minutes.

 

 

Davis Fairbanks, company suit, eyed the screen nervously. The fact that his 'benefactor' remained in shadow always unnerved him, as did the man's silence now.

"And what, exactly, is it I'm paying you for?"

"I forced them to play your game and report for the mission. The fact that your men couldn't handle them once they got on site..."

"Don't confuse my question for not knowing what happened, the question was rhetorical... do you know the meaning of 'rhetorical?'"

Deciding that silence was the best option the corporate man remained silent.

"Very good," his benefactor said as if praising a puppy that had managed to not chew his last pair of shoes.

"What's our next move?"

"Our next move? I don't know about you Mr. Fairbanks, but I'm going to try and stop them from making it to the border."

"And the intel?"

"It's too late for that. They're good. They're very good. Which is kind of why I want them."

Davis remained silent, which seemed to please the man on the other end of the call.

"I'll be in touch."

Davis wasn't sure if that was a good thing or not.

 

 

Pooch continued to monitor the tracking system's reports waiting for the 'we've got him now report.'

There were times he really wished Jensen would just use standard routines but he knew that any lesser system would have been detected and deactivated long before now.

As it was he had good data on the man, his hardware and his working habits.

So far he had stopped at no less than three hotspots to deck in and contact his girlfriend 'RazorKitten', his other girlfriend 'HExOS' and a bookie named Pete.

What he hadn't done was report his success or failure to anyone.

On a hunch he ran background checks on all three. The first two searches came back normal, but Pete seemed to be into more than gambling.

According to his record the man had been indicted on seven counts of human trafficking of physical adepts and eight counts of kidnapping. The man seemed to have a thing for physical adepts, and whatever it was, it wasn't healthy.

By the time his background checks were done, he could add one more detail to Pete: Victim in a suspected murder investigation.

A minute later, the tracking program had identified their suspect as the second victim found at the scene.

Someone was cleaning house.

 

 

Clay rubbed his chin as the news channels picked up the story and the international outrage. Members of Humanis had come out and denied any wrong doing, but the information was more than just out there: it was being acted upon.

The Corporate offices of the UN had started working overtime and in less than five hours the report someone had wanted buried was uncovered in its full glory.

Stocks in several controversial corporations plummeted and by the end of the day, they were at war.

Correction, they were involved in a multi national, police action against the implicated parties. Not bad for a day's work.

 

 

Jensen winced as he slapped his neck. The mosquitoes just seemed to multiply the deeper into the jungle they went.

"Did you know there are like... twenty-seven hundred different species of mosquito?" He asked as he trudged on. "And I think I just killed number twenty-seven hundred and one..."

Cougar turned towards him, looking at him along the brim of his hat and shook his head. 'We are almost there.'

Jensen sighed. 'We were almost there three days ago.'

'You know the landing zone has moved.'

Jensen paused to check the map as he scanned the different frequencies. 'You do realize if we hadn't reported in we would be home by now?'

'And the world would have changed, and there would be nothing for us to come back to.'

'We did kind of force them to step up their plans didn't we?'

Cougar nodded. There was not much else to say.

'You think the Suit knew?'

'Jensen,' Cougar said as he turned to face his friend. 'I think we were setup-I think the Suit had his own agenda and was using us. If you make me repeat this again... I will...'

The rest of his answer was cut short by the echoing report of a rifle shot. Jensen had enough time to open his mouth in shock as Cougar grabbed him by the collar and pulled him down.

They landed behind a slight rise, the wind knocked out of both of them.

As Jensen regained his breath he gave Cougar a relieved smile, grateful for his friend's quick reflexes. Then he saw the blood.

"Oh no... oh God... Cougar? Cougs!"

 

 

Cougar's vision wavered as he tried to override the pain. Even as he tried he was analyzing the shot: high caliber, long distance... armor piercing... body armor... control...

He had to control the flow. He felt himself slipping and was jolted awake by the chip's warning signal.

He swallowed, forcing himself to keep his breath even and steady, but focusing was hard. Training took over, telling him he needed to slow everything down: shallow breaths, slow beats, lower his blood pressure just enough...

As he exerted control over his body, slowing the blood flow, he heard the warning again. He gasped, trying to find the right balance.

He worked to find the equilibrium level, feeling himself bleeding out... bleeding inside. He closed his eyes gasping-they wanted him dead, but not yet. The shot had been precise.

He tried to activate his com, but as he did his control slipped and he again heard the warning tone.

"Mierda..." he gasped.

Jensen forced himself to act. He swore as he climbed to the rise and grabbed Cougar's pack and dragged it down after him.

He winced as he heard the alarm and bit his lip. Cougar was dying.

"Come on Cougs... " he said as he grabbed the first aid kit from Cougar's pack. He knew Cougar could do a lot to control his injuries but this... This could not be happening.

"Cougar... I need to know if I should use a slap patch or let you control it... please... talk to me..."

He checked his friend's eyes and was shocked by how glassy they looked. "This cannot be happening... not now... please not now...We're almost out..."

He tensed as the alarm sounded again.

"Carlos... talk to me... "

He listened and smiled slightly as Cougar swore. "That sounds good to me Cougs... just hold on... "

He grabbed a hemostatic field dressing and prepped it. "Cougar... I need to know how much of this you can handle... "

Cougar's breathing was shallow, but he gave a slight nod. "No.. patch... field dressing... internal bleeding... went for slow kill..."

Jensen felt a cold chill at Cougar's diagnosis. He wanted to ask why, but he knew. The nightmare was never going to end.

"Sorry about that Corporal Jensen... can I call you Jake?" a voice asked over the radio.

Jensen froze, shaking his head. "What the..."

"Relax Corporal... we just had to get your attention."

"By killing my friend?"

"He's not dead... yet, and all you have to do to make sure he stays that way is stay right where you are and let my men pick you up."

"Who is this?" Jensen demanded in disbelief.

"Jake... Jake... please you're wasting time. Go and treat Sergeant Alvarez's wound... from the sound of things it's pretty serious and I'd hate for you to die because you're busy arguing with me."

Jensen shot Cougar a worried look. If he surrendered there was a chance they would save Cougar. He bowed his head and was about to accept the terms when Cougar transmitted his own answer.

"Go to hell."

Jensen turned and swallowed as he went to work on Cougar's wound.

"How much Carlos... how much are you going to put yourself through for me?" He asked softly as he worked.

'Whatever... it... takes...' Cougar answered over the secure line.

Jake gave him a sad smile. "We're close to the evac point... can you make it?"

"No other choice."

Jensen shook his head. "We can wait... give them what they want."

"No... other..." Cougar closed his eyes as he again fought to maintain balance.

Jensen swore as the alarm sounded again then eased.

Cougar forced himself to take several breaths than nodded to Jensen. 'We need to move... now.'

 

 

An hour later, Jensen was ready to call out to the voice on the radio and surrender.

He wasn't sure how much more Cougar could endure but he had reached his limit. He could hear the pain in Cougar's breath, every step becoming more agonizing than the last. Each breath came more belabored than the rest.

He started to ease Cougar down, only to have Cougar fight him. 'No.'

"Cougs... I can't do this. I can't do this to you. Please. Let me do this for you."

'Jensen... Jake... Please do not ask this again. What they offer is not life. I would ... rather we both die fighting than accept... no.'

Jensen looked at him, tried to argue, but he saw the answer in Cougar's eyes.

"Whatever it takes?"

'Claro.'

Jensen finally nodded and continued on, trying to drown out the warning alarm with chatter.

"Come on Cougs... just a little more..." Jensen wasn't sure if Cougar could hear him anymore, but talking to him kept the decker focused. He knew as long as Cougar could concentrate he could keep himself from bleeding out, but there was only so much a man could do: only so much he could ask his friend to endure.

He cursed himself and the situation. 'If only'... became another part of his mantra. He knew it wasn't his fault, but he also knew that Cougar had been shot in order to slow him down- to make his capture that much easier and now, ten minutes from the medivac chopper, he could feel Cougar's control slipping.

"Carlos, come on... we're almost... " He let out a relieved sigh as heard the chopper; watched it land. "They're here," he said finally daring to believe that the nightmare was really over.

He nodded gratefully as the first medic started working to stabilize Cougar as another carried a litter out for him. Once the first medic nodded to her teammate they rolled Cougar onto the litter and carried him to the waiting chopper. He followed along, almost mechanically, exhaustion all but claiming him.

As they positioned the stretcher inside the chopper, Jensen froze. The chopper was rigged for 6 litters and all of them were full. With the medics on board, the chopper was at full capacity. He had come so close.

"Straight Evac should be here in ten," the medic told him as the rotors began to speed up. "Sorry we couldn't take you... Your friend'll be safe with us."

She was kind and reassuring, but he couldn't help but feel his fate being sealed. He tried to take comfort in the fact that Cougar would be protected. He nodded and backed away from the chopper.

When he cleared the wash area and the chopper started to lift, he heard the proximity alarm sound. He closed his eyes, a single tear falling as he did his best to prepare for the end.


	9. Chapter 9

The trip had become a haze of pain and forced meditation as Cougar fought to keep his blood loss down and his heartbeat strong.

Jensen's words of encouragement became the focus he used to let his mind and body work together. The pain became a dull roar and he fought every step of the way there. He couldn't die. He refused to die, for doing so would also kill his best friend and that was not going to happen on his watch.

They had tequila to drink and revenge to plot. They just had to make it: failure, this close to rescue, was not an option.

He was barely aware of his surroundings as Jensen eased him to the ground. Then there were others around him-treating his wounds, stabilizing him for travel. He tried to raise his eyes in salute to Jensen, but the meds were quickly taking effect.

He was floating.

He had almost succumbed to their influence when he heard an all too familiar buzzing in his ears. He tried to ignore it but somewhere in the back of his mind he knew it meant something very bad was about to happen. He tried to sit upright only to find the medic pushing him back down.

"Jensen!" he managed to call.

"Easy," the medic said as she adjusted his pain meds. "Your friend is fine. Next chopper is inbound. ETA ten minutes."

Her voice was soothing but he knew it was a lie. There was something he needed to remember. Images filled his mind as he tried to remember, tried to focus on what was wrong, and then he remembered: Jensen's life depended on him.

He summoned all his strength to meet the medic's eyes. "No! Deadlock... "

He saw the medic's eyes widen as she cut into the ship's comm. system to alert the rigger running the ship. "Alex... " she yelled signaling for him to cut the power to the rotors and land. "Deadlocked patient... Down now!"

 

Jensen looked up as the warning started to fade and the chopper settled back onto the ground. "No.. no no..." he gasped, this could not be happening. Cougar needed the medevac now: he would die if they waited.

He fought the urge to run as the medic climbed out of the chopper and moved to him.

"Deadlocked!" she half demanded, half asked.

Jensen gave her a resigned nod. "Just me... he's safe... please..."

"Like hell," the medic said stripping off her helmet. "You got medical training?"

"Slot a chip and I do..."

She smiled at him and pulled one from her headware. "Here... all procedures... stats of the current patients. There's treatment AI built into the beds... but you have to keep an eye on them..."

She handed him the chip and her helmet. "You take care of my boys!"

Jensen was stunned as he took the chip and helmet. "But..."

"No 'buts'," she ordered as she led him back to the chopper. She grabbed a medical pack as she waited for him to get in. "Get on the chopper. We got four critical patients and your man is one of them."

As she spoke she checked her pistol and scanned the horizon. Jensen slotted the chip and quickly unslung his rifle and handed it to her.

He gave her a grateful look, then took her place on the chopper. He watched her as they lifted off and prayed she would be all right.

 

Jensen plugged himself into the medic's station and checked on his patients, dutifully monitoring their states and making notes on their charts, including updating Cougar's to indicate that he was a physical adept and that he was the deadlock trigger for Jensen.

He settled in for the forty minute flight to the hospital ship.

Ten minutes into the run, one of the patients went into cardiac arrest.

Jensen opened the man's file on the chip the medic had handed to him and reviewed the man's stats as he set to work. The notes were in full detail, well organized and it offered the option of referring to the patient as 'Patient 3', the patient or Corporal Samuel Ramirez. He noticed that the medic had kept the settings to 'name' and let out a sigh. He didn't even know her name.

He worked with practiced ease, allowing the chip he'd slotted to tell him the course of treatment and the procedures. It took him only a few minutes to stabilize Corporal Ramirez, and as he was relaxing he picked up some of the radio chatter.

The evac chopper had taken heavy fire and had been forced to dust off without any pickups.

He swore to himself. The medic was still out there in hostile territory, alone.

 

Cougar tensed as he felt his breathing become more difficult. Part of him didn't care anymore. He'd lost Jensen. The idiot had given up his life and for what?

He drew another shallow breath as he tried to push himself back into a meditative state. He would live... he would avenge ...

"Jake," he said softly to himself- it sounded like a vow.

Just as he had started to slip into the required state, he heard Jensen call to him.

"Right here, Cougar, you just rest. I got us covered..."

He looked up startled. "Que?"

Jensen rested a hand on his shoulder. "Right here... not going anywhere. Now let yourself heal, dammit."

 

Once he was sure Cougar was resting and Ramirez was stabilized, Jensen reviewed his cases in their entirety: Army Corporal Ramirez had three broken ribs, a punctured lung and a crushed vertebra, consistent with the fall he suffered after being hit with a stun bolt, and most recently suffering cardiac arrest; Navy Commander Pendergast was suffering from magical drain as well as a broken collarbone, a fractured femur and the injuries one would associate with being thrown into a tree by an earth elemental; Naval Commander Richardson, elf, decker had taken two Teflon 10mm rounds to the chest, his body armor and trauma plate saving his life, but only just; Pueblo Force Shaman TwoBears had taken three 10mm to the back while working on healing the final member of their team and from the sound of things, a family member: Army decker, Lt. Wjowski-TwoBears- suffering from blunt force trauma, also congruent with an earth elemental throwing her into a tree, curare poisoning, and head trauma. As he finished his reviews he stopped and looked at the names again.

'No,' he thought. 'This can't be happening.'

He reviewed the names, pulling up their service records as he did so. 'Damn, damn... damn... '

He jacked out of the medical system and looked at his patients. Richardson... Tracker... one of the best if not the best infiltration decker of his time... and Wjowski... was... Damn... Duck... guest lecturer and one of the original designers of the Army's Code Library, his friends and demi-mentors.

He shook his head. They shouldn't be here. As far as he knew, they'd retired set up shop in Memphis of all places. Duck had obviously gotten married. He checked their records again, finding that Pendergast had served with Tracker in his unit BlackPaw under the code name Whisper. From what he could see, TwoBears had been loaned out to both BlackPaw, and Duck's unit Voodoo. He checked each of their service records and found they had been reactivated one week ago for some sort of covert mission: a mission that had obviously gone very, very wrong.

One friend in critical condition was bad enough, but three... It was going to be a very long flight.

He checked on them again and shook his head.

It almost sounded like a bad joke: 'Two deckers, a combat mage and a bear shaman walk into a bar...' Jensen would have laughed if they weren't in such bad shape.

He did his best to pass the time, and by the time they landed on the hospital ship, he had triaged all his patients, and sent ahead their stats and unload order. There would be time for catching up later.

As the doors slid open he was surprised to find a pair of Masters at Arms, the Naval equivalent of MPs, standing there rather than orderlies.

The lead MA took one look at Jensen and pulled out a pair of handcuffs. He backed away instinctively until the man gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry Corporal, they may be primitive, but with the chaos below, they're guaranteed to keep you together until the deadlock can be resolved. Where's your partner?"

Jensen eyed the man warily before pointing to Cougar. He watched in disbelief as they were handcuffed together with a pair of steel cuffs, encased in bright orange plastic.

As two orderlies arrived to take Cougar (and Jensen), Jensen turned to the other medic and handed him the borrowed chip. "Has there been any word...?" he asked feeling both grateful and responsible for the medic's predicament.

"On Casey?" The medic asked. "None yet... if you'd like I'll try and get word to you when we hear back from her."

"I'd appreciate that."

It was the last sane, semi complete conversation he had for the next twenty minutes as he and Cougar were taken from one treatment area to another. Cougar, who under normal circumstances said very little, was the closest thing he had to someone to talk to and Cougar was working very hard to focus on controlling the pain and his heart rate.

Each time a table would open up the orderlies would spy the orange handcuffs and immediately move to the next patient.

Jensen was starting to get annoyed and more than a little concerned. The medic, Casey, had ID'd Cougar as one of the critical cases... and now he was laying there untreated. The fourth time it happened he stood up and looked at the orderlies.

"My friend is critical... "

The orderlies looked from him to the table, to the surgeon. "We're not equipped to handle a deadlock..."

"So... we just wait here for him to die and my head to explode? Is that the plan? 'Cause I'm not really liking that as a course of action. How about we save his life now, and then worry about finding someone equipped to deal with the deadlock?"

"It's not that simple?"

"Yes it is. He's almost out of juice... he's been running on fumes from before we were picked up- the only medical care he's gotten has been on the chopper."

 

One of the OR Nurses came over and glared at Jensen. "Is there a problem here?" she demanded, before turning on Jensen. "Corporal, if you continue to harass my staff... I will have the Masters-at-Arms escort you off this ship."

Jensen looked at her... looked at them, raised his handcuffed hand.

She looked at him and then at the orange handcuffs, her eyes widening, she placed her hands on her hips. "Why didn't you say something!"

Jensen stared at her in disbelief, his jaw dropping as if to say... 'isn't it kind of obvious that that is what I was trying to do!'

She paused looked around and grabbed one of the surgeons. "Captain Anderson, can you take these men?"

Jensen gave the woman a relieved smile. "Thank you."

 

'I don't know about you guys... but anesthesia kinda leaves me detached...'

'Jensen. Where are you?' Clay demanded. It was the first time they'd heard from the tech since the 'situation' had gone from covert to international military action.

'Clay? s'at you? I'm on a boat again...'

'Jensen: report. What is your status, where is Cougar?'

'I think I'm stoned and Carlos is... oh yeah... on the other end of the handcuffs still...'

Clay could hear the slight snicker in Jensen's voice and closed his eyes. 'Where are you?'

'Did you know that navy nurses are prettier than army ones... maybe it's the uniform... I don't know... but... '

"JENSEN! Snap out of it!"

He gave an apologetic look to Roque and Pooch, since they were getting his yelling in stereo.

"Colonel?"

'Cougar... can you hear me?'

'... can you... tone it down Col.? Hurts...' Cougar's voice was rough, and definitely on the woozy side of things.

'I need your location.'

There was a long pause before Cougar finally answered. 'Medevaced. Hospital ship. UCAS... Serenity.'

'Okay. Do not leave the ship until we get there. Do you copy?'

'nadie va nunca. Claro...'

Clay shook his head. Cougar's Spanish was almost as mangled as Jensen's, but he was pretty sure it meant the deadlock situation had been resolved.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where I probably could have ended the story, but as you can see... I didn't. There were loose ends to tie, and people to save... and a suit to burn... and so the story continues.

Clay was surprised when they were actually allowed on board to see Jensen and Cougar, not that it really did them much good since they had to be briefed on what had happened and the duty nurse seemed to be constantly on the move. Several Masters-at-Arms roamed the aisle ways between beds and recovery areas trying to keep the peace and to keep unescorted visitors in the area where the Losers now stood.

Conversations were muted in deference to the injured, and the presence of said Masters-at-Arms. As they waited, Clay watched for the nurse while Pooch and Roque scanned the area for potential threats and any sign of their team or the suit.

Aside from a very animated sign-language conversation between four patients, the place was very subdued.

Clay turned back towards Roque to ask him to locate Jensen and Cougar for him when he noticed Roque was staring at the group, trying to follow their conversation. "What gives?"

'It strike you as odd... you've got... what a Pueblo Force Recon Shaman, a Navy Combat Mage, an Elf UCAS Naval decker and an army recon decker and no-one's fighting?' Roque asked over the secure channel.

Clay shrugged. 'Not really our problem...'

'Oh yes it is. The mage and the shaman have both assensed all three of us. The deckers keep falling in and out of contact with some sort of remotes. They've scanned our frequencies... I think the deckers are working on decrypting it and none of the medical staff has come near us.'

Clay drew a deep breath and started towards the quartet, noticing that they were all in varying degrees of 'injured.'

As he neared them, the Army Recon Decker stood and limped over to him after signing something to her compatriots. "Are you here about the Deadlocked-Duo?"

Clay winced at the moniker, but the woman's tone held just the right amount of concern, and outrage.

"They're my men, yes..."

With the mention of them being 'his men' he noticed her eyes flit down to his collar, but her demeanor didn't changed in the slightest. "If there is anything we can do, please let us know." She handed him a simple card with the imprint of a dog's paw in black and an LTG number.

The card delivered, the woman returned to her friends without as much as a nod.

Clay shook his head and looked at the others. It was going to be an interesting wait.

 

 

By the time the nurse arrived Clay was ready to simply have Roque find Cougar and Jensen astrally and just join them.

"Colonel Clay?" she asked studying the group.

Clay nodded, stepping forward. "How are my men?"

"They are recovering..." the nurse began.

Something in her tone set Clay's teeth on edge. "Lieutenant, two of my men were 'requisitioned' from my team. They were forced into an assignment of dubious value that has resulted in our current military action. I and the remainder of our team were placed under house arrest to make sure my men completed that assignment and the only reason we were released is because their mission was a success. I have been kept in the dark, used as a bargaining chip against my men and someone has used my men as disposable units. I'm tired, I'm not happy, I want to see my men and your reaction and some contact I've had since arriving tells me that it's even worse than I imagined so if you could please shed some light on the situation... I would appreciate it."

She let her breath out slowly. "Sergeant Alvarez was injured. The shot was precise, designed to wound but not kill- at least not right away. Whoever made the shot knew about the deadlock. There is no other reason. The shot was deliberate, debilitating, and painful as hell."

"The only reason your men got out is because of Alvarez's ability to suppress the pain and control not only his blood flow, but his heart rate. The problem with this is the length of time and the fact that controlling the blood flow and keeping his heart rate up are counterintuitive. It puts a lot of stress on the mind and the body- So far his stats are strong, but I'm afraid he's been a bit aphasic when he tries to communicate. We're hoping this will pass but we have to keep him under observation for at least 24 hours before we'll know anything definitive."

Clay closed his eyes and nodded. What Cougar had done was the Phys-adapt equivalent of hanging tough against a computer system's intrusion counter-measures, or IC as Jensen called it.

"Now, Corporal Jensen is another story," she said then paused. After a moment she nodded, remembering the Colonel's request.

"Surgery is never a simple thing- it is never routine and when you have to perform two surgeries so close together... first implanting, then removing the device... "

She let her breath out slowly a look of disgust on her face. "It was keyed to your man Alvarez, but it also had a time limit. The unit had been nicked either during implant or before. Intentional or not... there was a leak. Acid from the power cell leaked into his system. Implants and blood filters have taken care of most of the leakage, but we're concerned that some of it may have made it through to other organs. Our main concern is his brain..."

Clay ran a hand through his hair. "Is there anything else?"

She nodded. "Master Sergeant Kaye..."

Clay shook his head, not understanding the significance of her statement.

She let her breath out slowly. "There was only room for one of them on the evac chopper. Alvarez was the obvious choice considering his state. Jensen accepted that and got him on the chopper. He would have died out there if Alvarez hadn't warned the flight crew."

She frowned. "Master Sergeant Kaye... C.K. She gave him her seat- and tasked him with taking care of the others... We haven't heard from her since."

"He knows this?"

She nodded.

He drew a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "I'll need the GPS co-ordinates of the L.Z. Please forward them to my rigger or point him in the direction of someone who can," he said nodding to Pooch.

"What are you doing to do?"

"I'm going to see my men, I'm going to order them to stand down and rest- then the rest of us are going to find ourselves a Master Sergeant."

 

 

Clay tensed as he heard Jensen talking to someone, only there was no one else there. It was just Jensen talking.

"Ha... 30 minutes... read it and weep, hotshot."

There was a pause as they drew closer.

"What do you mean check the... twenty seven? That is so not... wait a minute- there were two of you working it weren't there? That is so unfair!"

Clay drew a deep breath and prayed his men would be all right.

"Jensen?" He called. "Who are you talking to?"

"Oh, hey boss.. Just an old time friend. I keep trying to TRACK hER down but she keeps DUCKing out on me..."

Clay paused, his eyes narrowing. It sounded like one of Jensen's word games, but for the life of him he couldn't understand it. He took a deep breath and moved on. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh, you know," Jensen answered nonchalantly. "Like a guy who had a bomb in his brain and had his best friend nearly kill himself to keep it from going off... How about you guys?"

Clay gave him a slight chuckle. "Oddly, about the same."

Jensen nodded, then lowered his head and averted his eyes. 'They aren't talking about Cougs, Clay. But when he talks... if he talks...'

Cougar looked at Jensen and shook his head, obviously worried and not amused by the decker's prognosis. "Estoy aqui. Oigo lo que dice," at least that's what Cougar tried to say, only it came out more 'Estoy agua, Oigo lo que patata,'

"Oh-KAY... "Jensen said looking at Cougar, giving him the same worried look the phys-ad had flashed his way. "You are water... and you can hear that which is potato..."

He gave Clay a worried look, as if he were the one responsible for his friend's current state. The problem was, indirectly, he was.

Clay smiled and patted Jensen's foot and nodded to Cougar. "You've both been through a lot... you need to rest up and regain your strength, so I'm ordering you to do just that. We'll check on you later... okay?"

"Clay... we have to get back out there... the medic...she..."

"We heard, son," Clay interrupted knowing full well that repeating what had happened would only make it worse for both men. "We figured we'd go and see about bringing her back."

Jensen gave him an anxious smile and nodded.

"Just get some shut eye..."

Jensen let out a heavy sigh as Clay and the others headed back out. Things seemed almost normal until the curtain dropped between them and they all heard Jensen tell his imaginary friend, "I'll have you know my team now thinks I'm totally insane...and it's all your fault."

 

 

Once they were out of earshot, Roque turned. "Do you really think the suit is going to leave them alone... in that state? We can't go off looking for some medic leaving them wide open like this."

"Yes, we can," Clay answered, then nodded to the mismatched quartet Roque had pointed out earlier. "But we aren't going to be leaving them alone."

"Injured? You're going to have a bunch of injured soldiers face off against a company man who comes equipped with his own MPs. This is your plan?"

Clay raised a questioning eyebrow as he handed Roque the card the spec ops decker had handed him.

Roque flipped the card over, stared at the imprint then handed him the card back. "If they are who they say they are..."

"Pooch?"

"You'll have to take Roque's word on the mages, but the deckers... they're not just deckers. They're rigged as well. They've been tapping in and out of the system since we got here. Whether you ask or not... I'm pretty sure they're guarding our boys."

Clay smiled. "Then let's ask..."

As Clay approached the quartet, their conversation halted and all four turned to face them. Clay noticed they wore no insignia and aside from their uniforms there was no way of identifying their unit or rank.

Each nametag bore the name 'Johnson.'

He schooled his expression, but not before they saw him react to the bemused smile with ones of their own.

"How may we help you, Colonel?" The Navy Mage asked as the others simply waited.

"We have a little mission to run," he stated nodding towards Roque and Pooch. "And the people who did this to our men are still... well.."

"Out there," the man finished for him.

Clay nodded. "Yeah, and he's done enough damage as it is."

"We're on it," he assured Clay as the others smiled in agreement. Those smiles were enough to send chills down his back- and they were on his side.

The conversation finished the two deckers began signing again, but this time Clay realized it was a mishmash of tactical sign, ASL and something else.

After a small exchange the Army decker reached into a pack and pulled out a small box and handed it to Pooch. "You may find this useful..." she said, smiling proudly.

Pooch opened the box warily. He paused and looked up at both of them, his eyes widening. "Is that?"

"Yes," the Navy Decker answered. "The series IV prototype surveillance drone."

"Five hours flight time... 20 stationary..." the Army Decker added.

"Five mile radius..."

"Observe and report mode... "

"It's all on the disk."

"But, if you do use it, please let us know how it functioned," the Navy Decker began.

"And if there are things you'd change about it," the Spec Ops. Decker finished.

Frowning Clay looked into the box and saw a small silver disk and a remote the size of a golf ball.

"What the..."

'I'll explain later,' Pooch told him over the secure comm. "Thank you..." he added aloud to the two deckers.

He'd read about the series III drones and the Proving Grounds' reports sounded promising but a Mark IV? He tilted his head and then smiled. He was being asked to field test one of the most guarded pieces of technology in the Army.

"But if this falls into the wrong hands..." he objected

The deckers smiled. "It won't."

"And anybody trying to reverse assemble it will result in it eating itself."

Pooch nodded his thanks.

'Roque?' Clay asked over the secure comm. 'We ready?'

Roque nodded slightly then frowned as he saw the air shimmer slightly behind the Navy mage. Any concern he had for Jensen and Cougar's safety vanished. The quartet may be injured- but their jobs didn't depend on them being able to move- just see and direct.

Clay noticed Roque's approval and let his breath out. "Let's go find that missing Master Sergeant."


	11. Chapter 11

Master Sergeant Casey Kaye was not happy. Looking at the skies she realized the rain was coming and no amount of pacing or staring at the clouds would change that. She unslung her backpack and pulled out a rain poncho, carefully draping it over herself and her pack. It wasn't much, but at least they'd left her, her pack.

"Ten minutes," she muttered to herself. "Ten fragging minutes..." She paced the confines of the clearing carefully measuring out the distance the collar afforded her. At least they had thought to position the claymores where she couldn't reach them. After a few more laps of the clearing she realized that that 'kindness' had been intentional. They didn't want to risk her offing herself before they could do... whatever it was they planned on doing.

She still had a few days' emergency rations and the rain was giving her some drinking water but this was not what she'd been thinking of when she'd stepped off the skids and watched her chopper leave without her.

"Should have been ten minutes..." she repeated aloud as she remembered firing the smoke grenade and then having to wave the chopper off as gunfire erupted around her.

She'd tried laying low after that, but there was no hiding from the tracking device that had been rigged to her rifle: Sergeant Alvarez's partner's rifle to be specific. They were surprised to find her, alone and alive. When they called her Jensen, she knew something was up and she decided it was probably for the best not to contradict them. That had been three days ago.

They had marched for almost a day before they made the clearing and then her captors had carefully explained to her that if she wanted to live, all she had to do was stay in the clearing. Cut the tether, and the collar would end her life just as easily as a cranium bomb.

They promised someone would come to pick her up. Two days ago she was afraid of what that meant, and what would happen when they found out their prisoner was not a decker but a medic. Now, she was beginning not to care.

She had tried transmitting over the comm frequencies but the collar had delivered a powerful warning shock that left her gasping for breath each time she tried.

Staked out like some sacrificial lamb, she had little choice but to wait.

 

"What have you got on Master Sergeant Kaye?" Clay asked looking at Pooch. With Jensen out of the game, the information oriented tasks fell to the team's rigger.

Pooch shook his head. Some groups within the armed forces had their 'head cases' handle both decking and rigging. In most cases this cut down on their effectiveness, but there were some who saw them as two sides of the same coin.

Jensen once said that rigging was, for lack of a better term, decking hardware instead of software. Pooch on the other hand had always said that decking was like rigging in a fun house of someone else's design.

Fortunately, for this mission he didn't need to coax information out of the matrix- he just had to access the service files in question.

"Flight medic for the past seven years, combat medic for the preceding five... Looks like jumping ship to save lives is par for the course with the Master Sergeant: Humanitarian Service, Meritorious Service, Purple Heart... was both honored and reprimanded for ignoring a direct order to evacuate in order to stay with three injured soldiers until they were stabilized enough for transport... "

Clay smiled. "In other words... she's Loser material."

"Well, except for the conscientious objector designation..."

"Really?"

Roque laughed. "A woman who probably won't shoot you, or try and blow you up. There's hope for you yet..."

Clay gave Roque a mock sour look then turned back to Pooch. "Any enhancements?"

Pooch scanned the file. "Standard military grade comm unit. Chip and data jack... Left eye is cybered - designed for medical... thermal register... low light... "

Pooch landed the rotorcraft as close to the LZ as he dared. It was just on the edge of enemy territory and with the number of times it had changed hands- it was just safer to have their escape vehicle near enough to control, but far enough away to keep it safe.

As he finished setting up the controls for a quick remote retrieval, Clay and Roque scanned the area for signs of the enemy.

Once the vehicle was secure the trio headed for the landing zone. After three days they weren't all that hopeful for finding a trail, but they had to start somewhere and this was her last known location.

Three hours later, after trekking through the underbrush and backtracking once to avoid a patrol, they reached the original LZ.

Roque knelt down touching the ground and looked around.

"You can see where the prop-wash beat the grass down," Pooch stated.

Roque paused, closing his eyes. "There have been two groups through here," he said indicating the different directions of travel. "One group of five headed east, the other... looks like ten, maybe twelve headed south deeper into enemy territory."

Clay looked at the paths indicated then sighed. "South."

"South? Any particular reason?"

"If she headed East, any one of seven troops would have seen her. If she was on her own- she'd have reported in by now... no... They took her South."

"Next question... Why?"

Clay smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Why don't we find her and ask?"

 

Pooch was beginning to think they'd chosen the wrong path when Roque held his fist at chin height, signaling a halt. He stared into the bushes for a moment, tilting his head. When he smiled, his teammates knew he'd found something.

After a few minutes he walked over to the underbrush and picked up a purple nitrile glove with a stick. He looked at Clay questioningly.

"Could be anyone's," Clay commented playing Devil's Advocate.

"Small," Roque stated as he studied it. "Unused... single..."

"You think someone left it?"

Roque shrugged. "It could be cast off... but..." He paused and searched the area for a few minutes, finding a pair of bandage scissors about twenty feet further down the trail. He gave the other a raised eyebrow and continued his search.

Another twenty to thirty feet further he stopped and picked up the head of a stethoscope.

Clay nodded. "So.. she's either leaving a trail for us..."

"Or someone's leaving one for her... leading us into who knows what," Roque finished. "I really don't like this."

"Noted," Clay said looking around. "It's going to be dark soon. Why don't we find a place to make camp, then maybe you do some 'scouting'?"

"Oh, 'scouting'," Roque answered. "As opposed to ... Scouting?" he asked nodding towards Pooch.

"I'd rather you two work in shifts. We're down two men and I'd rather not take chances. Well... any more chances than we are being out here in the first place.

It took them another four hours to find a protected camp sight. Roque led the way, his fur helping him blend into the shadows. When they finally settled in Clay gave a nod. "I'll stand guard - you two take turns... watch over each other... there's no telling what might be out there."

 

Night number three, and Casey was beginning to wonder if they were ever coming back. The local wildlife were becoming accustomed to her presence, and becoming bolder. She knew it was only a matter of time before they ventured closer- before she'd have to worry about them wondering if she tasted good or not.

She pulled out her pen light and checked the charge. It wasn't designed for constant use, but at least it gave her some light. She lamented the loss of her multi-tool. It, along with her Swiss Army Knife, her survival knife, her scalpels and pretty much everything she could possibly use as a weapon, had been taken from her. They left her the majority of her medical supplies including a survival blanket but they had left very little else.

The only weapons she had were her brains and a small Scottish Knife her parents had given her when she'd left for basic. They had missed the sgian dubh, mostly because it was so small and she'd been loath to take it out on the off chance someone was watching.

The multi-too was one thing, the sgian dubh was personal.

She stood and moved closer to the center of the clearing, following the tether line back to the transmitter that doubled as a stake in the ground: her anchor.

She felt her way along the transmitter until she reached the reel that let her move around the without getting tangled up. She reached up to investigate only to feel another warning shock, which took her to her knees.

This was getting really old.

She glowered at the unit knowing she'd have to work something out and soon.

 

Jensen woke surprised to find himself in a hospital bed. It took him a few moments to re-orient himself and then everything came back to him in a rush. He sat up, knowing he hadn't just woken up, that something was wrong.

He froze. Cougar lay in the bed next to him, in the throes of a nightmare, only it wasn't the usual one... no this was...

'Shit!' He subvocalized without thinking. "Carlos?"

He pushed himself up, fighting the sensation of vertigo as he tried to stand and wake Cougar up. When he fell, he didn't even feel his head hit the edge of his bed.

 

As he settled in, Roque felt the ley lines around them. This place was so full of power he knew he would have more than enough energy to do what he needed to do. He also knew that it meant he would have to watch for awakened beings attracted by the power.

The better the watering hole: the better the prey to be found. He wasn't entirely surprised when he found they'd been following a ley line all day. It explained the almost heady feeling he was getting.

When Pooch returned from setting the perimeter remotes he closed his eyes.

"You warding before you begin," Pooch asked.

Roque gave him a slight glare, knowing full well Pooch knew what he was up to. In answer Pooch gave a subtle look towards Clay. No matter how many times they'd worked together, Clay always managed to forget about magical wards. He couldn't see them, didn't understand them... therefore he tended to forget about them.

"Clay, I'll be heading out shortly," Roque said. "Don't break the wards..."

Clay rolled his eyes. "That was once... a very long time ago..." he objected.

Roque smiled and began working on the wards.

 

Casey allowed herself a half an hour to recover after she'd felt good enough to stand. The first thing she had to do was eliminate the shock collar. Bandages were out- while they'd cushion they wouldn't insulate her from the shocks, and once she'd sweated into them the saltwater would just conduct the current.

She smiled as she pulled out a glove. She wasn't sure if Nitrile was conductive or not, but her money was on insulating. She carefully threaded one of them underneath the collar and began wrapping it around.

It was slow going, and every time she jostled the tether or moved the collar too much it delivered another shock. By the time she'd almost completed the task of wrapping the collar she was on her knees.

The only question was... if she finished wrapping the collar... would it protect her, or seal her fate?

 

The first thing Jensen was aware of was the fact that he was floating. He looked around almost flailing until he felt the hand on his shoulder and realized he was being levitated back into his bed.

He looked around, recognizing Pendergast, the mage from the chopper. He was about to comment when he heard a familiar voice over his comm line.

'What.. you didn't think you were injured enough?'

He smiled and turned towards the slight form of the Special Forces decker, well... slight in comparison to her colleagues: Duck.

'Yeah well,' he said rubbing his head. 'I learned from the best.'

She gave him a wry smile before turning towards the Pueblo Forces Shaman, who was sitting in a wheel chair next to Cougar.

"Wanna tell us what your charts won't?"

Jake shrugged. "Orders were issued to report to the shop for enhancements... we did what we had to to get the job done. There were complications."

The woman nodded. "And the complications were..."

Jake looked at them and then looked at Cougar. It wasn't really his to tell. "Complicated...?"


	12. Chapter 12

As he set the wards, Roque could feel the awakened drawing near. The half finished spells lighting the area like a beacon to anything sensitive to the magics he wove together. He sighed as he finished casting the wards, and felt outside influences vanish behind the wall of his creation. True, he would be moving beyond those walls, but his body and his team would be safe from the threat they possessed.

He nodded to Pooch as he settled back and prepared himself for the astral journey. His team would be safe for now, and he had work to do.

 

 

The colors of the night forest seemed to shift into shades of blue, the greens melding from dark and oppressive to thriving. It hid much, but it also revealed something very different. The ley lines flowed like a spider web, cutting through the jungle. They were so bright it was hard to see anything else.

He turned his inner sight away from the power, towards the areas that the light seemed to obscure. The area was teaming with life- awakened life.

He could sense the traditional guardians of the forest as they watched the outsiders prepare for battle. They did nothing to help nor to hinder. The battle of humans was fleeting- all the guardians cared about was the land, and the life it supported.

He bowed to them in respect before continuing his journey. While the glove provided little information about the person who left it, the portion of the stethoscope gave him the astral impressions he needed of the one who had used it often in the execution of her duties. The glove was impersonal: disposable, while the stethoscope had been worn around her neck, a constant companion and something... personal.

From it he sensed not a pacifist, but a warrior- a warrior who fought battles against time, against loss... against death himself.

He nodded with approval and followed the trail, looking for hints of that warrior spirit. He reminded himself that the spirit would be trampled... trapped. That spirit would either die, or go into hiding, waiting for the right time to surface- choosing its battles carefully.

He sensed something undulating near the junction of the two lay lines. It watched him, weaving back and forth but making no movement towards him or away from him.

He stopped, turning his attention towards the creature. The body of a snake, feathered wings... his first thought was a Coatl, but there was something about the way it moved...

He felt the pull of the ley lines and realized... it was a remnant of the creature that remained after it was long gone.

Something was very wrong here.

 

 

Casey woke as the first few drops of rain hit her face. She groaned and rolled over, looking up to see a glove attached to the transmitter. She let out a resigned sigh and pushed herself to her knees.

"So.. I guess it doesn't like not being in contact with skin... or... "

She paused trying to remember what she could about electricity. 'It needs to complete a circuit...' she thought.

She shook her head. She was going to have to think this out some more, after she had gotten some rest and something to drink.

"No good plan, was ever made on an empty stomach," she reminded herself.

 

 

Jensen watched as Duck, the Pueblo Force Shaman and the mage started speaking in sign. Watching he was able to pick up enough of their conversation to realize they were talking about Cougar and his nightmares- and the fact that he hadn't woken up yet, and about something inside him.

Then the Duck turned back to him her tone switching to professional and military, the voice she'd used with lecturing

"Jensen, there are a lot of things the medical staff can handle here, and a lot of things that have to wait until you get shipped back home before they can help. Help later is never as good as help now. These are the things... complications are made of."

She looked at Cougar and then back at him.

"Bear," she said indicating the shaman. "Can feel the wrongness... and if he can sense the problem- it's something he can help with. Whisper... " she added indicating the Mage. "Can tell there's something causing problems for you as well. Talk to me, Jay."

He studied her for a long time then looked at Cougar. "He's a Physical Adept... pushed himself... to keep me alive..."

"Yeah," she interrupted. "That's on the chart... but this... this is something else."

Jensen thought for a long time and finally closed his eyes. "We were undercover... Someone hooked him into a BTL session."

He was prepared for almost any reaction imaginable, but not for seeing his friend's face go so pale she was almost glowing.

"Kate?" he asked worriedly.

It was the Mage who spoke. "BTL's are never good for folks like us," he explained as he put a calming hand on Duck's arm. "And the memories of them are sometimes worse than the actual experience."

 

 

Once Roque had gone Astral, Pooch carefully set up a sensor web around the Mage. It would monitor his vital stats and warn him if anything was happening to the mage.

Roque would never have allowed it while he was conscious, but now that he was 'working', Pooch was free to move around and do what needed to be done. Three men teams were not nearly as effective as a five man team and they needed as much information as they could get.

Monitoring the mage's condition wouldn't help them in protecting Roque, but it would warn them if he was under some form of stress or attack, and that something might be heading their way.

It wasn't like they could actually do anything for Roque- but at least they would know.

He looked up at Clay and gave him the thumbs up. Things were good, for now.

 

 

The ghostly figure continued to shift from side to side. Its movements reminding him more of a cobra than a Coatl.

'Why are you here?' Roque asked.

'Why are you here?' It answered with the same question.

'I am looking for a friend.'

'No, you are not...' It answered. The tone was not accusatory as much as correcting.

'I am looking for one who saved a friend's life,' he stated. 'In my eyes, that makes them a friend.'

'You owe this one an honor debt?'

'It could be considered such, yes.'

'This one you seek... she is... like you?'

Roque turned. 'She' he thought, 'it said 'she'.'

Somehow it knew that the 'friend' was a 'she' even though he hadn't said anything. That one word choice meant that the coatl had seen the Master Sargent. He hated playing word games, but such was the nature of Coatl. Sometimes they were worse than their distant cousins the dragons.

'She is human, yes. Like me? No. '

'Strange...'

Rogue nodded. That was one word for it.

 

 

Casey looked up at the tower and then at the sky as it opened up on her. She was cold, she was wet, she was miserable and she was starting to become more desperate. 'Desperate times call for...something,' she thought as she let out a heavy sigh. If she had known this was what awaited her, she would have thought twice about getting off the chopper.

She gave a slightly derisive snort and looked around her. "Tell yourself another one kid."

She knew all too well she wouldn't have done anything differently if she'd known what awaited her, except, maybe, she would have lost the rifle.

Shaking her head she forced herself to concentrate on what she could change: her current situation. 'Focus on survival,' she thought to herself as she rummaged through her pack. 'What ifs won't change what is, and it's a losing game. '

She pulled out a piece of jerky and as she ate she thought about the collar and how to foul it without getting herself killed.

She knew her system couldn't take too many more shocks, but she couldn't just sit there. She had done enough of that.

 

 

Jensen pushed his glasses up. He'd known that The Duck had been in some pretty hairy situations before- but he never really realized it would take its toll. He'd always seen her as a kindred spirit, taking the world as it came and living life to the fullest.

To think of her as anything else was... unimaginable because accepting that meant accepting that it could do the same to him... to his friends. It would mean admitting that it had happened to Cougar.

He looked from Duck to Whisper to Bear. "Can you?"

"We can try," Bear answered. "But what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Battery leaks..." Duck reminded him.

"Having this sort of drek happen to a friend," Whisper suggested.

Duck looked up at the security cam, and snorted.

Turning Jensen saw the tail end of something in Morse code. Something about 'burying the bodies'

He gave a raised eyebrow and looked back at the others. Nodding towards the camera he asked "Tracker?"

Duck nodded. "He's still confined to bed, but is watching over us. We'll stand guard... let Bear try and help your friend, let Whisper try and help you?"

Jensen thought for a long time and then finally nodded, anything had to be better than watching Cougar laying there, lost in a nightmare and if Duck had been through something like this and was still... well... Duck. There was hope that Cougar would once again be Cougar.

 

 

Clay paced the confines of the encampment. There were times he hated the awakened world. He liked things he could touch, feel... react to, but now he was a redundancy of the perimeter drones. Good at protecting his men physically but there was nothing he could do for Roque other than keep his body safe while his mind and spirit were Lord knew where, facing threats he could only imagine.

He looked at Pooch as he reviewed his equipment including the tiny golf ball sized unit that had been given to him. He was tempted to ask him about it- but he knew that no matter what Pooch tried to tell him, tried to explain, it would all come down to a 'useful piece of equipment by the time he was done answering.

More than anything Clay hated working backup.

 

 

Roque couldn't shake the feeling that the ghost meant something. He watched it undulate and found himself mimicking it.

He paused, a smile coming to his face. The ghost had successfully distracted him from his original question.

"Why are you here?" he asked.

"I died here," it answered plainly.

That in and of itself meant something, not that it had died here, but that it had answered him plainly.

"Do you wish to be here?" he asked.

"Do you?"

"I wish to move on," he said. "To find my friend... the one I owe honor-debt to, to find her and to protect her. What do you wish?"

"To be free."

Roque nodded, realizing that the ghost was somehow anchored to the point.

"What can I do?"

"Release is at the heart... but I am bound... there is nothing you can do."

"Do you believe that?"

"Do you?"

There were times Roque really hated awakened creatures.

 

 

Casey wished she had been trained as an engineer. Then she'd have a better chance of dealing with the mechanics of her imprisonment. She wished she'd had the presence of mind to keep a library of skill softs on hand. She wished she hadn't stepped off that chopper.

She paused then forced herself to think about what she did have. She knew what the shock charges could do to the human body- hell, she'd experienced them. The shocks were meant not to kill, but to correct, but there were limits to what the body could take. Too many shocks would stress her systems, cause them to shut down. One big jolt could kill you outright, and that was preferable to this death by inches she now faced.

Attempts at communications resulted in debilitating pain, effectively stopping her from transmitting because she could only transmit for as long as she was conscious.

She smiled. All she had to do was find a way to finish the transmission after she was unconscious and make sure it ended before she was dead: easy.

Sometimes she really hated technology.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and it was about his point that I realized, a character I'd created for as a vehicle to save Jensen and keep the boys busy while Jensen and Cougar got healed up wasn't going to just sit there and wait for rescue, and that realization led me to really like Casey.
> 
> Bear, Whisper, Tracker and Duck... well... they were just going to be a cameo in the story... but they had something to say about that as well.
> 
> And that was pretty much the moment that I realized that this story was going to be much, much bigger than I thought and what I originally thought was going to be a short story answering the question: 'how do you control a decker?' was in fact the introduction to the actual adventure...
> 
> I hoped you enjoyed the story so far, and I hope you enjoy the start of what I hope will be a roller coaster ride through the Shadowrun World... Loser style.


	13. Chapter 13

Cougar was trapped, his own mind holding his body hostage- binding him to memories that weren't his... only now... they were his. He had experienced every sensation, every scent, and every taste and although his body did not hold the memory his mind did.

He tried to fight it, but it came, wave after wave it came and he couldn't fight it.

He heard Jensen call to him once, and that too had been part of his memories: Jensen finding him, trying to keep him from falling completely under the spell woven by technology and people with a twisted idea of entertainment.

As he tried to take control, to reassert what he knew to be true he realized that the pain killers he'd been given were specifically designed for a physical adept... designed to numb the mind and body in unison to keep them in synch.

Under normal circumstances it would have been fine- but this was not normal.

He shivered as memories that weren't his tried to overwhelm him.

'It is a lie,' a voice told him. The voice was calm, perhaps sad, but somehow also accepting.

He tried to make a fist, to connect with his body but the medicines continued to keep him detached.

'I know that,' he answered, or at least he thought he had.

'You know it, and yet you do not know it,' the voice answered. 'It is the way of such things, levels within levels... and the truth must be known on all levels.'

'Who are you?'

'I am teacher to my friends, healer to my kin, and protector of the way. I am son and grandson of the great healers of our peoples. Outside I am Daniel TwoBears, here I am a link to the Spirit of Bear, healer and guardian of our people.'

'Why are you here?'

'In your pain you have searched for healing- a call no healer can disregard, a call Bear will not let me ignore.'

Cougar thought a long time on what had been said. It was the poetic dance between the healer's formal request and his own need.

'How do we begin?'

'Open your eyes...'

 

Cougar opened his eyes and found himself in a wooden lodge. Symbols of the first people spanned the walls which seemed to extend through time.

Looking up he saw through the roof to the stars: the plains on a warm night.

'Find the place where you are most... yourself,' a voice told him and when he turned he saw not a man but a bear, a bear with very human eyes.

He took a deep breath and moved about the lodge, trying different places. After several minutes he closed his eyes and opened his senses to his surroundings. It took him several attempts until he found himself sitting cross-legged in the center of the lodge.

'Now we can begin.'

 

Jensen watched warily as Bear settled down with Cougar, and more importantly Cougar settled down, leaving the nightmare behind him. He wasn't sure how much a wheelchair bound shaman could do, but Duck seemed to think he could help.

He finally accepted that maybe, just maybe he could help and when he did the mage, Whisper, as Duck had called him, sat down next to him.

"Your turn," he said.

"Okay... what kind of altered state are you taking me into here? "

"No altered state for you..." Whisper answered.

"But... isn't that how you work?"

"It's how I work... but really... for you... it's like sitting there."

"No visions?"

"I'm a hermetic combat mage... sorry, no."

"No quests?"

Whisper shook his head.

"Chants, songs, poetry?"

"I could recite some poetry but.. uhm.. no."

"What do I do?"

"Sit back, shut up and ignore the Duck behind the curtain."

"This is so unfair. Cougar gets visions..."

"Cougar needs to be a part of his healing..."

"And I don't?"

"Your body is injured. That I can heal. Your friend's spirit is injured, that's more Bear's domain. If you want you can wait for Bear, but his dance card is full right now."

"Not even a moment of enlightenment?"

"I could hit you on the head?"

"Fine," Jensen said glumly. "Do I at least get a lollipop afterwards?"

"If you behave..." Whisper shook his head and Jensen had to laugh when he heard the mage activate his comm to Duck. 'I swear he's worse than you are.'

 

Roque studied the ley lines and the lay of the land. He tilted his head watching as the Ghost Coatl surged from side to side as if trying to work itself free.

'You died here.'

'Yes.'

'You are bound here?'

'Yes.'

He closed his eyes as a wave of power tainted with fear washed over him. Even as he spoke the words he could feel the truth behind them.

'You are not alone.'

'Not alone... '

'How many?'

'The cardinal points, above, below, within... Seven to bind, seven bound... seven to set it free...'

'It?'

'That is the chant they make. That is the power they call... that is the world they claim.'

Roque let his breath out slowly. This little rescue mission was turning into something much bigger.

'You are... '

'One that was bound.'

'And my friend... the honor debt... she is part of this?'

'One that will set it free.'

'One of what?'

'A sacrifice... one of the types of your kind.'

'Type?'

'I do not know your words... One who touches knowledge with their mind... the learned one; one who builds machines with their mind... the architect; one like you who walks in our world at will; one like you who dances in his own skin; one like you who touches the Spirit with his own; one who lives indistinguishable from the machine within them; and one who is pure, of the old world...'

As the creature spoke Roque translated. The learned one was obviously a decker. Building machines with his mind... that sounded like a rigger. One like me: a mage. One who dances in his own skin: a physical adept. Touching the spirit world would be shaman, man indistinguishable from machine... a cyber samurai and a mundane human being. They weren't asking for much.

Roque shook his head in disgust. 'How soon?'

'When the borders between worlds is thin... when the moon is dark...'

'And if we can prevent the sacrifice?'

'I will be free.'

'And if we fail?'

'It will come and we will all be bound.'

Roque swore. Suddenly finding the Master Sergeant became a lot more important. As he thought about it, he thought about the quartet on the Serenity. Mage, Shaman, Jackers... deckers who doubled as riggers.

When you considered the fact that Cougar was a Physical Adept, it all became the antithesis of good.

 

Pooch checked the sensor web and readouts on Roque: his pulse rate, which had slowed as he entered the astral world, was now it was speeding up. He hadn't hit the danger zone yet, but it was alarming in that it was not normal.

Increases like this usually meant combat, but he showed none of the other signs of magical combat. He logged the stats and then checked with his drones. The check was mostly a formality since the systems were on auto-detect/auto-report and he had heard no discharge from the weapons system, no ping from the control rig to indicate movement.

All that changed in an instant as he doubled over in pain as something broadcast through his brain at full gain, full volume.

As he fought to keep from throwing up, he heard Clay outside doing the same.

He quickly forced himself into one of his drones, seeing what it saw, only feeling what it felt: cold metal in the night air. It was like a breath of fresh air.

In the system, he realized that it too had 'heard' the transmission: heard and recorded.

 

Sitting in the lodge, Cougar felt oddly comfortable- at home. He looked at the bear that served as his guide and he discovered he could only see his eyes.

'This is your spirit house,' the bear told him. 'This is where you live as one... body, mind and spirit. This is where you are truly at home, where you are at your strongest.'

Cougar nodded somehow both realizing how impotrant it was and understanding it as a simple truth.

'It is where you are most comfortable. I will act as your guide, but where you go is up to you... '

'What do I do?'

'It is a dance... step outside your center- find that which lies unbalanced. Bring it with you back to the center... find the balance and bring it home... find your center once again.'

'But there is much that is out of balance.'

'Yes cub, there is- it is not something that can be done at once- it was not created at once. The time it has taken to become unbalanced is the time it will take to become balanced.'

'But the others...'

'You cannot help them until you help yourself...'

Cougar could hear the sadness in the voice, and a hint of knowledge of the nightmare he faced. 'You have been here before."

'And I will be here again. Our world is out of balance, and men with crooked spirits seek to make it theirs.'

Cougar nodded and allowed himself to truly be in his spirit house, to gather himself together and feel the center of his being- to feel the balance he was missing. As he did the lodge shifted images faded and he was alone in the night sky- surrounded by nothing but stars.

He was home, but he knew he could not stay.

 

Jensen watched as Whisper seemed to fall asleep in the chair next to him. He looked around feeling more than a little bewildered and turned to Duck.

'Is this really what it's like?' he asked over the comm line.

Duck laughed at the dejected tone in his voice then shrugged.

"I don't know," she answered softly. "I'm usually unconscious when he gets to me."

"And you fight me every step of the way," Whisper commented. "Now... shut up... both of you."


	14. Chapter 14

Casey's first thought as she came to was that she was going to need a tourniquet to keep her brain from seeping out around her ears..

Her next thought was 'let's not do that again... ever.'

Closing her eyes against the blinding headache and the tremors that shot through her body like aftershocks, she vowed never to get off the chopper again, no matter how good an idea it seemed at the time.

She tried to focus, but the pain was too much. She tried to reach for the pain meds in her pack but found she couldn't hold onto the bag, her arm muscles were spasming in protest.

She looked up at the transmitting tower, her breath coming in semi controlled gasps. 'Oh... Frag!'

 

"What the hell was that?" Clay demanded as he was finally able to stand again.

"Not so loud," Pooch warned him, crossing his eyes as if it could help clear his mind enough to piece it all together. "Are you ears still ringing?"

Clay nodded.

"Mine too," Pooch confirmed. "Drones picked up and recorded the transmission... I need to translate it... "

"Can you?"

Normally it was the sort of things Jensen did in his sleep, but of course... he wasn't there. "I'll have to," he said. "Do I wait for Roque to get back or start working now?"

Clay looked around the encampment and then down at Roque as he lay there dead to the world. "Can you work... outside the machines?"

"Probably."

"Do it."

 

Roque looked down the ley line and then levitated himself so he could see above it. What he saw made him cringe. There were seven ley lines that converged like spokes on a wheel to the hub. Lesser lines crisscrossed the area turning the wheel into a sphere.

Its time was near- one, maybe two days and there was no way to protect every decker, every rigger, every physical adept in the world, let alone mages, shaman and mundanes, but he could start by finding a certain Master Sergeant.

'I will do what I can,' he vowed.

'You are one of the ones they seek.'

Roque frowned. It didn't say he was one of the types they sought, but rather one of the ones... He tried to think about it, but he didn't like where his mind was going with the information.

'Could this get any more gloom and doom?' he asked

'We are all doomed... sooner or later...'

Roque smiled, 'There's the encouragement I was looking for.'

 

The stars shone brightly against the night sky. He could make out the constellations he'd learned as a child. For the first time in a very long time he found himself focusing on Big Bear, and Long Sash.

The humor of Big Bear being a guiding beacon and the man bear being his guide were not lost on Cougar. He closed his eyes, found his balance and then took a step outside.

Suddenly he felt different. His beard and mustache were gone and until that moment he hadn't realized that in his center he was the man he remembered being. The shaved version of himself was off balance... unused to attention.

He had spent his life being the man in the background: the shadow. He had not liked being on display. It was everything he wasn't. He felt this version of himself slide under his skin and he wanted to push it away.

'It is you... to find balance, you must accept that.'

Bear. Wise, patient, unyielding: it figured he'd get a guide who wouldn't take no for an answer.

He closed his eyes once more an let the unbalanced version of himself seek refuge inside him, then he felt a faint smile as he realized sometimes balance was as simple as accepting that we are not always who we think we are.

Again he felt his way around and sat down. Beneath the starry sky was the open prairie. He waited until everything seemed to settle and then looked at the constellations above him. Big Bear shifted to the big dipper and then back again. Two names for the same thing: all a matter of perspective.

He smiled at the truth within.

 

Jensen lay in bed watching Whisper, the mage's rebuke still ringing in his ears. He shifted to his side, frowned and turned the other way.

Sighing he looked at the ceiling. It looked exactly the same as it had a half an hour before. He shifted again, and studied Whisper to see if he'd noticed the change.

When nothing changed he made a face at the mage.

After about five minutes of making different faces he flopped back down.

Who knew magic could be so boring?

 

Whisper had read the official reports so he had a good idea of what he was up against, but an idea and reality weren't always the same thing.

While it wasn't necessary, old habits did not die easily. He started by shielding the ship, joining his energy to those already woven into the vessel during its manufacture. Then he shielded their deck, feeling the energies of mages and healers past- all leaving their signatures behind. Next he shielded the ward, and finally the curtained off area where he sat next to Jensen.

Only then did he turn and focus on his patient. When he did, he could see the reason for concern. It flowed through his system like a crimson tide, washing against that which was healthy and polluting it.

He drew the power to him, glad he had at least had enough time to heal himself. This was going to be difficult. As he focused on the wrongness he began reciting the hermetic axioms as he applied them to his task.

'The all is mind.' or, as Duck liked to say 'The universe is mental' His mind, against this wrongness. Check

'As above, so below, as below, so above,' Heal one level and the others will respond. Check

'Nothing rests, everything vibrates...' Energy flows between levels, only that which is dead does not move. Check.

Polarity. Duck's favorite. 'Everything is Dual; everything has poles; everything has its pair of opposites; like and unlike are the same; opposites are identical in nature, but different in degree; extremes meet; all truths are but half-truths; all paradoxes may be reconciled'

If there is damage being done here, then there is healing. Check

Rhythm. 'Everything flows. The pendulum swing to the right is the measure of the swing to the left.'

Cause and effect... Someone damaged a device on implantation... damaged device... damaged decker. He hated corps.

Gender. Everything has its masculine and feminine properties, Yin and Yang within the yin and yang.

He drew the energy he need to work and breathed the power into his patient's body.

'It is the healers job to restore balance...'

Masculine energy poured in to wage war against the invading substance while the feminine energy accepted the gift of healing.

The thought, 'Duck would hate this imagery', was followed by 'she'll never know.'

Everything flowed, from the spiritual plane, filtering through to the other planes until the wrongness was burned away.

Panting he let the energy wash over him, renewing and strengthening both him and his patient as another rule made him chuckle.

"Matter can neither be created nor destroyed... it can only change state," and so he changed the state from poison to waste, from waste to fuel, from fuel to healing.

He was going to have a headache from this one...

 

Pooch turned the gain as far down as possible, then muted the volume. Once he had the sound controlled, he had the drone replay the blast, watching the gauges as they spiked into the red zone. The blast lasted less than three seconds, but it had felt like an eternity when it had been broadcast through his comms.

He focused on one drone's transmitter, set that one to record, with the audio turned down, then rebroadcast the signal on a tight beam to the second drone.

He still heard the transmission as the second one recorded it, but this time it was more the type of sound that made you cringe. Still it was a step up from collapsing with your ears bleeding.

He transferred the copy of the file back to the original drone and replayed it with the volume muted. This time the needles hovered at the 'just about bearable' range.

Three more cycles and he had something he could listen to without wanting to crawl into a bottle and never climb out, but it was still just noise.

He frowned and began playing with the sound... stretching out the waves until bedlam became something more familiar.

Three numbers repeated: a feminine voice. The initials C.K. and then the three numbers. The filtering had degraded the signal enough that positive voice analysis impossible, but the power of the signal would have been worse the closer to the transmitting tower you were.

He contacted three of the remotes, the two farthest from the camp and each other and the one directly between them. There wasn't that much distance, but hopefully he would be able to triangulate.

 

Casey looked at the tower and bowed her head. They had won... again. She was too tired and in too much pain to think. She pulled her legs in close and rested her head on her knees.

At least her mind was processing the pain as one big pain rather than a myriad of tiny pains. For some reason that thought made her giggle.

One big pain: that's what this whole exercise had been.

She contemplated her sgain dubh for a moment then shook her head. There was still time.

 

Roque knew he had to report back, and soon, but he needed to check one more thing. Again he studied the ley lines and again he matched them up with the terrain he calculated the distance to the center and studied the path they'd been following, comparing it to the ley lines.

It was almost, but not quite a direct line. The two had intersected for a while, but they diverged before the hub. If no corrections were made the trail would cross, not the hub, but one of the seven spokes.

He made a respectful nod to the ghost and returned to his body. It was time to let Pooch do his thing.

 

Cougar closed his eyes, feeling at peace as he looked at the night sky. He knew he couldn't stay, that there was more work to be done- but he drew on the strength he had gained and the knowledge that one piece at a time- he could bring himself back into balance.

Once he felt strong enough he again stepped out from the center. As expected, he found another version of himself, but it was not the one he expected, not the one he'd feared. Instead he met the version of himself who'd been tricked into reporting to the medical center with Jensen: the part of him that had unwittingly become the pawn to use and most likely kill his best friend.

Unlike the lost version of himself, this version was angry, primal. It did not want to be comforted. It did not want peace. It wanted to rend and twist and lash out against those who he had given power to - against those who had abused his trust.

He paused, knowing this was who he was, who he tried not to be. Not the man in the shadows, not the protector, not the calm and patient sniper, not the trained physical adept but the passionate and angry force that lived behind it. That which he had trained to control, let loose and ready to do anything to not hurt, to not feel... out of control.

'We see what we want to see. When we are in control, we are who we want to be- but there is always that force that is beyond our control: the side of us that remembers our ancient past that understands only the hunt... only the hunger. It too is a part of you.'

He closed his eyes, knowing that the bear with human eyes was still there- still with the lessons, lessons as old as time.

There are moments in your life- when you do what you must, when you lose control- when your spirit fractures. This too is a truth. We are what we are, and sometimes control is not what we need, but acceptance.

He felt the primal force enter his body, and was almost overwhelmed by the rage, by the need. He was less than he thought- but he was also so much more.

He let his breath out, and returned to his place of peace. Across the prairie, he saw a river start to flow. 'We are all the sum of our parts,' he thought. 'Whether we like it or not, we must accept it.'

One more piece of the puzzle fell into place. With that knowledge, he let his breath out and smiled.

 

Jensen was bored. Jensen was more than bored, he was annoyed. Thinking about it, he realized the real problem was: he was jealous.

Clay, Roque and Pooch were on some sort of mission, probably saving the world from unspeakable horrors. Cougar got to go on some spiritual quest with a bear shaman and he was stuck in bed, watching a mage do absolutely nothing for hours on end.

Where was the fun in that?

 

Whisper could feel the headache building even as he finished working on his patient. There were times he really wished the medical staff fully understood what was possible with magic.

'Wait and see what develops', 'treat the injury after it is known'... more times than he cared to count these method had resulted in loss, even death and it was so unnecessary. Sure, he was one mage, and he could only heal one person at a time, but there was no doubt in his mind that this one person would have died if they had just 'waited' and 'seen what developed.'

A case of poisoning was so much easier to heal than a case of 'dead'.

He finally opened his eyes and looked at his patient. When he saw the man's impatient, almost childish expression he chuckled.

"Well?"

"You'll live."

"And..."

Whisper yawned, trying to figure out the expression on his patient's face. He closed his eyes. "You weren't kidding about the lollipop were you?"

"I never kid about sugar," Jensen assured the mage.

Whisper placed his elbows on his knees and head in his palms. 'Why me?' he wondered shaking his head. 'Why me?'

 


	15. Chapter 15

The first thing Roque noticed as he refocused his consciousness was that Pooch had put a sensor net around him. This wasn't unusual. What was unusual was that it was still around him when he sat up. The rigger was usually far less conspicuous about his monitoring, choosing to remove the sensors as he began to show signs of returning.

He did a quick scan of the area, checking his wards and for signs of trouble, but everything else seemed normal. Then he saw Pooch, leaning up against a tree as if he were asleep. He stood, his hand reflexively going for his boot knife. Something was wrong.

As he stood he felt a familiar presence behind him and turned. "Something changed?"

Clay nodded, relaxing his guard slightly. "We had a transmission: possibly from our medic. Pooch is trying to triangulate now."

Roque nodded. "It's a lot worse than you think."

"Talk to me."

Roque tilted his head. "You hate it when I talk magic."

"Only because when you talk magic, it means I'm either going to have a headache or we're going to be knee deep in combat with something I can't see let alone understand.

Roque shrugged. "No headache..."

Clay sighed. Hostile armies were one thing. That he could see, that he could fight, but magic: that just made things all kinds of complicated.

Clay hated complicated.

 

 

Casey drew a deep breath and forced herself to lie down. She knew she had pushed herself to her limits, and any more attempts to communicate would leave her either permanently incapacitated or dead.

She sighed as she tried to find a comfortable position, using her pack as a pillow. No matter how much she turned or moved, the ground was just too rocky and her body ached too much. She stared up at the sky and prayed.

"Please Lord, don't let it end like this."

 

 

Looking out across the prairie, he sensed a timelessness that hung in the air. In the distance the river slowed, allowing the water to reflect the night sky. Here was peace, here there was balance, but beyond he knew chaos waited.

'It is always the way of the warrior: to seek peace... to seek balance in an unbalanced world,' his guide told him.

'And I must first start within.' Cougar answered with a wry smile.

'Yes.'

He nodded and stood. It was time to face the next of his demons.

This time it was different. The first two imbalances were of his own making and as such were relatively easy to resolve. He simply had to accept that he was who he was... all phases of himself, but this... this was not of him- he knew it with every fiber of his body. His blood, his flesh, his nerves knew it was a lie and would not accept what he had been forced to endure. It was not of his body- but of his mind.

He fought it every step of the way until he looked away and saw his guide's eyes. The eyes flashed, first on the bear and then, flowing into the man he had met earlier that night: Daniel TwoBears.

'Why do you fight this memory?'

Cougar bowed his head ashamed of the images, of what was done to him. '...can you not see?'

His guide shook his head. 'It is not for me to see: these visions are yours and yours alone. I am here only to provide guidance and to help you understand what you can, and accept that which you cannot.'

Cougar nodded, looking sadly at the form of himself that was haunted by memories that were not his own. 'This I cannot accept,' he finally said.

His guide nodded.

Suddenly they were in the lodge again, but instead of a sense of infinity the lodge had very definite boundaries. Oddly it didn't make him feel trapped, but more like a guest.

'This is your spirit house,' Cougar said, knowing it for the truth before he'd finished speaking.

His guide nodded. 'Here I am the protector, the teacher. In yours I am but the guide.'

Cougar nodded.

'Why can't you accept the vision of yourself you now face?'

Cougar drew a deep breath and looked him. Finally he closed his eyes. His face pinched with pain, he finally answered in a whisper. 'This ... vision... this version of me... I can accept being the victim, I can accept being betrayed, for the one who did this to me can never hurt me again... but the memories... the pain... it isn't mine.'

He looked up, afraid of what he might see in the shaman's eyes, but all he saw was himself.

'Who's memories are they?'

Cougar shook his head. 'I do not know. I do not know if they were ever real. It was all...'

Cougar froze in mid-sentence as he heard his guide growl.

'Stay,' Bear told him as he shifted into a bear and lumbered off, leaving him to wonder what happened on a spiritual quest when the guide went off the rails?

 

 

Jensen looked at Whisper as Duck helped him into a nearby bed. "Do you need help?" he asked, pulling the tootsie pop out of his mouth so he could speak.

Duck just looked at him and rolled her eyes. "You had to wait until he was actually in the bed to offer, didn't you?"

Jensen smiled. "I'm recovering from major surgery."

Duck simply shook her head.

Jensen popped the lollipop back into his mouth as he studied Cougar. "So... now what?"

Duck shrugged. "We wait. Wanna go for another round of 'crack that code?'"

"Only if it's just you... no cheating."

Duck looked at him innocently. "Tracker and I don't cheat."

"Since when?" Jensen demanded pointing his lollipop threateningly at her.

"Since we started writing the rules."

He nodded towards her combat deck. "Set 'em up old timer."

 

 

"Let me see if I get this straight," Clay began. "There is someone running some very serious, very dangerous, as in 'call in the freaking Special Forces Magical Intervention team' serious, that may or may not have our Master Sergeant, may or may not want us as sacrifices and may or may not have been targeting Jensen."

Roque listened to Clay's summary and shrugged. It was probably as close as he was going to get to understanding the situation.

"And the Master Sergeant?"

Pooch reviewed her records. No Magic, not a decker, not really a rigger. Her headware is strictly medical equipment and records."

"So, they aren't going to be happy if they figure out that she's not... anything on their list?"

Roque shook his head. "Probably not."

"Which means we get to her as soon as possible."

"Unless, they've already figured out she's not what they're looking for and they're just using her for bait."

Clay wiped the sweat off his forehead. Part of him wanted Cougar running point on this, and another part of him was just as glad his sniper and decker were sitting this one out.

"And do we know where the Master Sergeant is?" Clay asked turning his attention to the team's rigger.

Pooch shook his head. Turning on his pocket secretary he pointed to a spot on the screen, "Here we are," he said. "According to triangulation, she's here," He pointed to a point five kilometers away. "Her message, gives her grid co-ordinates as ... here," he added as pointed to an area a kilometer to the west.

Clay nodded and looked over at Roque. "And you haven't been able to detect her."

Roque shook his head.

"Is it just me or does this really sound like a setup."

Pooch looked at him over his sunglasses and asked. "Does Jensen like to wear awkward t-shirts?"

There were times Clay wished his team were 'normal', but he knew all too well: situations like these required the Loser's special brand of crazy.

"Great."

 

 

Cougar sat in the lodge for a long while- trying to understand the mechanics of what had happened, of what was happening.

He knew when he was sick he could use the control he had learned to heal his body before the virus could take hold. Likewise he could control his heart rate and blood flow allowing him to continue when others would stop, but that was in the real world.

And this was...

"A manifestation of our world in another plane."

He turned surprised to see his guide, very centered. A hat appeared in his hand for no other reason than to give him something to hold over his heart.

"It is a world of our creating... a reflection of who we are."

Cougar nodded, concerned by the shaman's apologetic posture.

"What happened?"

Bear closed his eyes and snorted. "I have a ... special loathing... for people who force others' memories on another. Be it technologically or spiritually, it is wrong."

"And?"

"I had to go find balance," he answered sheepishly.

"This,' Cougar asked referring to the madness he'd endured. "It was done to someone you care about?"

"Yes."

Cougar bowed his head for a moment, offering up a prayer for the one the Shaman cared about, a sad smile coming to his face. He could have compassion and acceptance for someone else, but not for himself.

"If I do not accept this?" he asked finally.

"Then we have gone as far as we can... for now."

Cougar nodded, drew a deep breath and let it out slowly. He could almost feel his finger on the trigger of his sniper rifle. Maybe, it was not as hard as he thought.

"I think... I am ready," he said as he faced himself in the throes of the simulated reality. If someone so close to a shaman could suffer- who was he to place himself above them.

He took in the wounded version of himself, and surrounded it with the security he had felt in Bear's presence. Part of him would always remember what he had endured, but he would not let it rule him.

 

 

When Cougar finally opened his eyes, he felt oddly whole. He knew somehow that the man sitting next to him a wheelchair was the shaman who had helped him.

He nodded graciously and the man patted his shoulder before exiting his semi private area.

"Cougs?"

He turned, smiling to see Jensen sitting up in his bed with a deck in his lap, he tilted his head and nodded questioningly.

"All better," Jensen answered. "You?"

Cougar nodded. "How?"

Jensen smiled. "I got my own magical mystery tour, only mine stayed in the parking garage."

Cougar frowned, and gave Jensen a dubious look.

"Your healing came with a show. Mine came with a 'Sit, stay, shut up.'"

Cougar smiled. "They found someone to fix you?"

"Yeah, I'd really rather you didn't word it quite that way."


	16. Chapter 16

Jensen had just started to doze off when he heard Duck transmitting over the Loser's comm channel.

'Jay, you have a suit coming in. You want us to hold him off or let you handle him?'

Jensen turned to see Cougar sitting up in his bed, a dangerous gleam in his eye.

Jensen laughed as he answered. 'I think we've got it covered, but you might want to run damage control."

'Copy that, just let us know if you need us for anything.'

'Will do.'

Cougar gave Jensen a questioning look about the comms and the fact that there was a Non-Loser on their supposedly private frequency.

"An old friend," he explained aloud. "Well, actually, two old friends... and their friends. It's cool."

Cougar shook his head. Nothing had been 'cool' since before the assignment began. He paused for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he thought about their situation before focusing on Jensen. "The Shaman and the Mage?"

"Yeah, those would be their friends."

Cougar nodded. He would have to trust Jensen on this.

 

 

By the time the suit arrived, Jensen had tucked his deck under the covers and lowered the bed. He did his best to look the part of a 'soon to be deceased' decker.

Cougar, for his part, watched warily from his bed, doing his best to look bewildered, which wasn't hard when he was trying to understand, let alone follow Jensen's lead.

"Ah... gentlemen, so good to see you," the suit called from the curtain entrance beginning before he could even see them. The fact that he brought his two body guards with him was not lost on Cougar.

"How are you feeling?"

Jensen looked up at him doing his best 'I'm so sick' routine.

How Jensen could manage to fool most people into thinking he was just the 'weakling geek' and still not be able to bluff his way out of a wet paper bag befuddled Cougar to no end. The only solution had been to simply accept that it was part of being 'Jensen' and ignore it as best he could.

After a minute or so, Jensen sat up and smiled at the suit. "Actually, we're feeling a lot better, not thanks to you."

The man's eyes narrowed. "I'm sorry," He began. "According to the doctor's..."

"According to the doctors, I'm probably going to die or be brain damaged by that little stunt you pulled with the cranium bomb you had installed. It's out by the way, thank you for your concern in the matter."

The suit gave a slight snort and his expression changed from fake worried to 'I can play your game.'

"Stunt? The device was in perfect working order when I provided the equipment to the doctor. Anything that happened after that was not my fault."

"I do wonder how you got the brass to play along with that little 'security feature.'"

The suit shrugged. "I simply pointed out that if you were going to be going out in the field, that they should do their best to secure the information in your head."

Jensen snorted and shook his head. "That's got to be the biggest piece of bullshit, please, tell me someone saw through it and at least tried to call you on it."

"Before deckers started going into the field, information was secure- the deckers were secure."

Jensen started at him and snorted. "The decker's brains were online and just as easy to pick as they would have been on scene, and military deckers left the ivory tower long before you came up with your idea of 'securing proprietary information.'"

"But none of them had your rights and permissions to military systems." The suit said with a mocking smile. "Can't risk having someone with your knowledge of the system available to just anybody."

"You know... the original designers of the military systems have been on the frontier longer than any of us- and they didn't get cranium bombs put in their heads. As a matter of fact it's never been mentioned in the Military Code of Conduct."

"An oversight really. The original designers never left the base."

"No, the originals didn't, but the next generation did."

"And the newer systems have far out done the old ones in complication and sophistication. So the vulnerability remains, while the value of the information has increased exponentially."

"So you kill the only people who know how the system works?" He turned towards Cougar. "Cougs, remind me to do a core dump when we get back on post. I need to make sure he hasn't had any code inserted while we were away."

Cougar for his part merely nodded as he continued to mentally dissect the suit.

"You'll find that everything I did had the full backing of your superiors. And it was you and your friend here who endangered the entire operation.

Jensen sat up wide eyed. "And how pray tell did we manage to endanger the operation since we were the ones who uncovered the international plot that has resulted in the joint task force now fighting in the area?"

"If you had followed the plan our UC had carefully organized, you would have gotten in and out without anyone noticing. All you had to do was do your cover job, get the information and get out- it would have remained small and it would have been handled quietly.

Cougar sat up more this and could feel the angry version of himself contemplating multiple forms of slow death for the suit.

"Our cover jobs... funny you should mention that," Jensen said with a growl. "Did you know what our cover jobs were?"

"Of course, I was in every step of the planning."

Jensen closed his eyes as he typed something into his deck as he organized his next thoughts. "Tell me," he asked with a growl. "Was the BTL part of the plan or did your man go off script first, because last time I checked the law, be it corporate, national, international, pretty much every military convention since Geneva... the use of mind altering substances or devices or spells on an unwilling subject to gain their compliance is strictly forbidden and comes under the heading of torture."

Rather than deny the accusation the suit smiled. "See, now that you brought it up... from what I saw... your friend here wasn't an unwilling subject."

"From... what.. you.. SAW!?"

"Yes. We have all the video evidence we need to bury you and your friend for that little fiasco. I have footage of your friend enjoying himself in the throes of whatever it was the BTL chip fed into his brain," the suit said with a cunning smile. "And I have pictures of you killing a federal agent. So, I really don't think you have that much legal standing here."

"Oh, trust me," Jensen said slipping off his shirt and tossing it to the side. "Any attempt to ruin me and mine..."

"Attempt? I have ruined you. Even if you can work the matrix again- you won't have your buddies backing you up. You're damaged goods and you'll work where we tell you, the rest of your team's gone off the reservation. I see a court-martial in their future."

"And your friend here... even if they can undo the damage done by his heroic effort to save your miserable hoop... he'll be lucky if he gets off with a medical discharge: dishonorable if they find out he was playing with BTL chips. Let's face it, there's nothing worse than a chip-head, except maybe a physical adept chip-head, of course," the man snorted. "He probably could have a future in the entertainment field."

Whatever reaction he was expecting, it was fair to say that Cougar practically flowing out of his bed and taking out his two body guards in one movement was not one of them.

 

 

Jensen had tensed unsure how the man's attitude and obvious taunts would be received by Cougar. Instead of anything destructive Cougar displayed complete and full control. To his credit the body guards were down, incapacitated with minimal damage and minimal disruption.

When Cougar spoke there was no sign of anger, no sign of the pain the man and his UC Agent had caused. It was pure Cougar, soft spoken and smiling: Cougar at his most dangerous.

"If you saw enjoyment- then you did not see the whole thing. If you only saw Jensen kill your agent, then you missed this," he said holding out something the size of a penlight for the Suit to see.

"The remote trigger," he added looking directly into Jensen's eyes, as if to apologize for not telling him sooner. Then he turned, once again focused on the suit, a predatory crossing his face.

"If you think you can control any of us: you are wrong," Cougar warned, his voice little more than a low growl.

"If anything happens to me..."

"Oh, believe me," Cougar said quietly. "Things are going to happen..."

 

 

Somehow Cougar's low threat made the suit smile. "And now, I have you attacking my guards with no provocation, and threatening me in living color," he laughed nodding towards the security camera.

When Jensen merely snorted, Cougar laughed.

"Everything you say and do here is recorded."

"You really hired a team of deckers to hack a UCAS Naval ship?" Jensen laughed as he hit a few more keys.

"You really... that's just... unbelievable. I really hope they're getting paid for doing the job not results," he continued, still laughing.

"You think you have the skills needed to stop them? They've been here since you arrived."

"I know I have the skills and truth be told, you know I have the skills- it's why you picked me for your little setup."

He looked around and shrugged. "Think about it. Think about what your team can do breaking in compared to what I can do since- I pretty much own the system. It's amazing what you can do with designer rights. "

" And honestly, you should really hope I have stopped them 'cause if I haven't there are two decker's on the ward who will be teaching them to rethink their job selection process, and after that, they will hunt you down and they aren't nearly as forgiving as I am."

"You? Cougar asked Jensen, still staring at the suit. "Forgiving?"

Jensen smiled. "Compared to them and the people they support, oh yeah. I'm just one guy."

The suit shook his head. "You're bluffing."

"With that face?" Cougar asked in disbelief.

"If I were bluffing I'd be telling you nothing bad is going to happen to you," Jensen assured him. "Or..."

There was a slight pause as his eyes rolled into the back of his head.

Cougar smiled, knowing full well that Jensen had activated his deck, plunging the decker's mind into the realm of the matrix. He moved a little closer, keeping himself between the man in the suit and Jensen. It was his job to protect Jensen when he was decked in. He could only imagine what electronic mayhem the decker was wreaking with the man's life.

He tilted his head and smiled at the suit, thinking about all the things he could do to the man. He turned slightly when he heard Jensen 'return' to his body, and smiled as the decker refocused on the suit.

"Maybe something will happen to, say... your secret bank account in Cal Free State."

Cougar gave him a curious look.

"I've always wanted a new combat deck, and well, Cougs can never have too many rifles; some knives for Roque; a shiny new set of drones for Pooch and dating lessons for Clay. Oh, and a three hundred thousand nuyen donation to the Veteran's Association. I told you Cougs, he's not all bad."

"You..."

"It's tax deductible," Jensen assured the man as if that fixed everything.

"When the agency hear about this..."

Jensen smiled again. "Oh, they already know. Kinda like how they know you've been selling technology and techs to the Yaks," he paused, his innocent smile shifting to something far more dangerous. "You really should try hiding your money better or maybe keep one of your 'gifts' to straighten things out for you."

Cougar had to suppress a laugh as Jensen continued in true Jensen fashion.

"Oh no, see actually, that's where you went wrong. Word of advice: don't piss off the people in charge of keeping all your secrets safe, deckers don't like to be thought of as property."

As Jensen finished working he again smiled at the man in the suit. "And your man kept very good records."

When the corporate man glared at him, Jensen smiled. "Oh, and that entertainment position you had all planned out for Cougar here... well, that's the life you'll be living twenty four seven at a federal prison. Ten years for each decker we liberate, forty for each we don't... so, yeah- not so much on the fun side of things."

He smiled as he saw the Masters at Arms arriving outside their cubicle. "And you know what the best part is?"

"What?"

"I didn't really have to do anything to you to get my revenge. You did it all to yourself."

Jensen smiled as five Masters-At-Arms filed into the room, and he watched the smile fade on the Corper's face: it felt very different to be on the losing end of things.

Jensen had just started to relax as he saw the man's hand reach into his suit jacket. Before he could even think to shout a warning, Cougar was on the move. He struck with stunning accuracy, breaking the man's wrist as he took his gun from him. He ejected the clip and pulled the slide to clear the already chambered round, in one fluid move, then flipped the gun around and handed it to the lead Master-at-Arms.

As they hauled the suit away, Cougar smiled at Jensen. He had gotten a small bit of payback himself for what the man had put them through.

"I don't know about you man," Jensen said. "But I could really use a nap."


	17. Chapter 17

"Cou-gar..." Jensen called.

There was something in the way the decker called his name that made Cougar cringe. It was his 'I know something' tone of voice. The tone he used to call his teammates out on something. Usually it was more black-mail oriented but this... He turned slightly and gave him a raised eyebrow.

He watched as Jensen sat up in his bed and turned towards him.

He did not want to have this conversation. It was over- done with.

"Coug-ar." Jensen called again. "We need to talk."

"¿Que?"

He could see Jensen trying to find a way of broaching the subject.

"Remote detonator..."

Cougar closed his eyes. "It is over. Let it go."

"I don't think so Cougs."

'Mierda!' Cougar swore to himself. "He had it, I took it. What else is there?

Jensen took a deep breath and turned his deck towards Cougar so he could see the video capture. It showed the UC, with the remote threatening Cougar with it.

"See," Jensen said, his eyes narrowing. "I was wondering how he got the drop on you and tricked you into his room in the first place."

"Please. It is over."

"Cougar, a man holds a gun to my head, and you let him torture you instead of seeing me die," Jensen growled. "It is so 'not' over."

"He is dead. We are alive. It is over."

He watched as Jensen fought his own anger, trying to keep something very emotional from getting more so.

"And the next time someone holds a gun to my head?"

"I will do what I can, what I need to do." he answered with a shrug. There was nothing else to say.

He could tell by Jensen's expression that the decker thought there was a lot more to say on the matter, but he let it drop, for now.

Cougar knew this conversation would be repeated. More likely than not with Clay there as referee.

 

 

They had gone less than a kilometer when Roque signaled a halt. He barely gave Clay enough time to slip in behind him and catch him as he pushed his consciousness into the astral planes.

Clay signaled Pooch to watch for signs of trouble. Without Cougar to take the point they had to rely on remotes and drones to do the work for them, but with two men down and Roque on recon they couldn't run the risk of having only one person conscious and alert.

Pooch nodded, taking the point and quickly signaled Clay to take cover as he did the same. Clay smiled to himself, glad they had the sense to stay off the trail and run parallel to it rather than follow it directly. If they had, they would have been sitting ducks.

As it was they were forced to watch and wait as a team of twenty soldiers moved along the ley line. He froze when he realized that the twenty soldiers were actually eighteen soldiers and two captives. He felt a snarl low in his throat when he recognized the mage-hood on one of the prisoners and how the other was forced to guide the man through the forest.

He didn't know which was worse, although he knew Roque would vote for the magic user in the mage hood. From what Roque had been able to explain the mage hood was worse than 'just a blindfold', which was what Clay had mistakenly referred to it as once, it somehow blocked the mage's connection to the world at large. It was like, as Roque put it, being at the finest feast ever created and having no sense of taste or smell.

He swallowed as the mage stumbled and his companion did his best to keep him from falling. They were both reprimanded with a cattle prod. He was about to react when he felt Roque's hand on his arm.

He looked down to see Roque staring back at him with his cold calculating look and he knew he wasn't going to like what the mage had to say.

'There are twenty more behind them, just waiting for someone like us to respond.'

Clay let his breath out slowly and nodded. They would wait, but those soldiers were going to pay.

He wasn't sure he liked the smile that crossed Roque's face or not-but it was clear he felt the same way.

 

 

As the two groups passed them Pooch took out the small golf ball sized remote, signaled Clay to hold position, and programmed it to follow them. 'If they keep moving, we'll have 5 hours to catch up."

Clay looked at him. 'Won't they see it?'

Pooch shook his head. 'Prototype: still under testing. It's too small for most detection.'

Clay paused, obviously dubious but trusting the rigger's opinion. 'if you're sure...'

Pooch nodded. 'Oh, I'm sure.'

Clay shook his head, wondering when his men had become so bloodthirsty.

 

 

Casey gave a bleary eyed look at the clear sky wondering where the rain and clouds had gone. "Now you clear out," she grumbled.

She forced herself to sit up and drink some of the water she'd collected before once again turning her attention towards her current situation and condition.

"Exposure, exhaustion, dehydration," she began out loud then shook her head.

"We're going to be here all night," she told herself. "Might as well work alphabetically."

"A is for Angina

when you don't have enough O2.

B is for blown to bits,

if you don't figure out what to do.

C is for Caustic burns

Which may not kill, you wish they will

D is for Diphtheria

For which the weather fits the bill

E is for Exposure

Of which I am suffering from

F is for Freezing cold

Which after rain is sure to come..."

 

 

They had almost reached the indicated clearing when Clay tilted his head and signaled a halt. He frowned slightly then turned towards the others. 'Am I hearing things?'

Roque frowned and shook his head. He was hearing it too.

Someone was singing and from the sound of things, their morale was at an all-time low.

"From which I don't want to die,"

T is for Typhoid

which we know means no KP

U is for Urinary tract infection

which we all know means no Pee...

V is for eviscerate

but only because we cannot spell

W is for What the hell..."

'Cover me...'

Clay stepped out to the edge of the clearing where he could be seen and cleared his throat.

There, leaning up against a transmitting tower, was a medic singing a very macabre little ditty.

"Oh... shit..." she said standing up. "Don't come any closer."

"Because X is for..."

"Xenophobia? I don't know. Are you real? If you are, you're going to want to watch the Claymores. I always thought naming a bomb after a sword was a bit derivative... "

Clay studied her for a moment. "Master Sergeant Kaye?"

She froze, looked at him, tilted her head and got a heat reading off him for good measure. "I'm not hallucinating?"

"No Master Sergeant, you are not hallucinating."

Clay started towards her when she fell to her knees laughing.

"NO!" she yelled, gesturing frantically for him to stay where he was. "I wasn't kidding about the Claymores. Kinda trapped here. Claymores on the outside, some sort of tether here that really doesn't like me transmitting or trying to figure it out."

Clay nodded. "We'll get you out. Just stay calm," he urged verbally while activating the team's private comm channel. 'Guys, we have a problem.'

 

 

"Stay calm he says," Casey muttered to herself then spoke in a louder almost annoyed tone.

"Stay calm? I am a UCAS Master Sergeant, Sir. Calm is my middle name. If however you mean please stop acting like a crazy woman who's been left out in the open staked out like sacrificial lamb with a bomb around her neck and no real means of self-defense for two days and three nights, I'll try."

Her rant over and her energy pretty much depleted, Casey sat down and reached for her pack. "Sorry sir," she added. "Been a bit stressful here. What can I do to help?"

As she waited for his answer she saw two more men emerge from the woods and nodded to where they stood. "Mine field starts about 5 yards from your location," she warned.

 

 

Clay watched the Master Sergeant carefully as she reacted to his gentle urgings. 'Roque. Check her out, something's not right here.'

'Understatement of the month,' Roque answered as he pulled out a piece of licorice root and popped it into his mouth. He studied the woman for a moment before switching his perceptions to a higher plane.

Chewing on the root he allowed himself to see what others either couldn't or wouldn't allow themselves to see. He centered himself first by focusing on the familiar. Clay's aura was blue, tinged with red. He was his normal calm self, but he was angry. Angry about the prisoners they witnessed and angry about whatever had been done to the Master Sergeant. She was right- you didn't get to be a Master Sergeant by losing your head and her behavior was far too erratic to be explained by simple stress.

He paused, finding Pooch's aura to be disturbingly Orange. It was not a color that looked good on the rigger. No, the man was normally mischievous and challenging... not vindictive. He hated to think what his own aura looked like.

Centered he focused on the woman in question and winced. The colors were mixed up and worn, the shades of someone suffering internal damage. He let out a low snarl when he realized that the collar was the source of the damage and noted just how far she'd stretched herself.

If he hadn't before, now he really wanted to hurt someone.

He let his breath out slowly and shook his head as he once again focused on Clay.

'Clay, she's not going to last much longer. It's a lot more than just being alone. She's pushed herself trying to get out of this mess and that thing,' he added nodding towards the tower with disgust.

Clay gave him a worried look and Roque merely shook his head. 'These boys sure love their electricity Clay.'

"How bad?"

"Bad," he answered angrily. "Bad enough I'm going to have to do something about it."

Clay nodded. He knew Roque meant more than just healing the injured Master Sergeant, he needed to balance the scales somehow: another aspect of Roque's discipline he preferred not to understand.

'I'll keep her focused,' Clay promised. 'Pooch, set up a perimeter with the drones, anything comes this way I want to know about it before it's within a click of our position. You two work the situation. Levitate if you have to, but get a drone out there to work on freeing her. Our first concern has to be that collar.'

 

 

Casey watched as the Colonel and his men set to work, or more to the point his men set to work and he continued to study her.

She took another sip of water, knowing that one way or the other her ordeal would soon be over.

"Master Sergeant," she heard the Colonel call and she resisted the urge to stand and salute. She was in no shape and something told her that doing so would only tick the man off.

"Yes, sir?

"Call me Clay."

"Only if you call me Casey, Sir."

"Deal."

She smiled and raised her canteen in salute.

"Casey, I need you to tell me everything that happened, from the moment you stepped off the chopper."

She looked at him for a moment and nodded.


	18. Chapter 18

Clay listened as the Master Sergeant told him about waiting for the evac chopper and having to wave it off. He could feel the disappointment in her voice just as he could sense the pride in getting her people out of there safely.

He listened to what she told him, and more importantly how she told it. Her report was matter of fact and read like a medical report. She didn't play up her work, or downplay it- she simply related everything she saw and heard.

When she started talking about the tower he could hear the change in her voice. She hadn't just sat there like the 'helpless sacrificial lamb' she claimed to be. No, she had worked the problem every chance she could. She'd survived, but that wasn't enough for her.

No matter what her record said, conscientious objector or not, Master Sergeant Casey Kaye was a fighter. Clay smiled grimly at that thought: that spirit had nearly gotten her killed.

He was slightly startled when her tone changed at the end, and she asked him about 'her boys'.

He smiled. "They're all good, thanks to you."

He wasn't entirely surprised when she looked at him and gave him a knowing smile. "Some of them were yours."

It wasn't a question, and he simply nodded. "Alvarez and Jensen."

She gave him a relieved smile at his answer.

It was something they both understood: his men; her boys no matter what you called them, they would do anything for them. It was a common bond.

 

Pooch finished setting up their perimeter and checked in with the golf ball remote he'd sent after the other two groups. They were still together, but they now had a third prisoner.

As he disconnected from the system's rigs he nodded to Roque. "Perimeter is secure," he stated quietly. "And our friends have picked up another prisoner. Report from the remote indicates they found him on the trail. Seems to have been a lot of failed missions around here."

Roque nodded. "We need to get to the Master Sergeant and disable that collar... do you have anything available?"

Pooch thought about his equipment and shook his head. "I've got Annie and Eddie, they can work the problem, but they're rollers, not fliers."

When Roque simply nodded Pooch shook his head. "No, no, no... I am not throwing you in there."

Roque shook his head. "I prefer to think of it as propelling me past the mine field where I can deliver the drones."

"Think what you want... it's still me throwing you into a mine field."

"Only if you don't push hard enough."

 

Clay gave Casey a bemused smile as he listened to his men 'argue.' "Casey, what exactly did they tell you?"

Casey paused then shrugged. "They called me 'Jensen'... told me that they'd be back for me and that if I tried to cut the tether the collar would blow my head off."

"Nothing else?"

She shook her head. "Nope. Everything else I had to figure out on my own. Transmission was the first thing I tried... Oh, they did tell me that there was a tracking device in the rifle."

"They put a tracking device in your rifle?"

She shook her head. "Not my rifle, Jensen's. He handed it to me when he took my seat. "

Clay gave her a sharp worried look. This was starting to sound even worse than he'd thought, if that were possible.

She let out a heavy sigh. "Someone's setting folks up aren't they?"

Clay gave her a sad look before smiling and nodding. "Yes ma'am."

She laughed. "Ain't no ma'am, Col. I work for a living."

'Will you two do something already... lady's been kept waiting long enough,' he groused over the comm. While keeping up his conversation with the Master Sergeant.

"Well, Casey, so do we-and we're..."

His sentence was cut off from a warning from Pooch's rig. He turned and gave Pooch a questioning look.

"Incoming at the 1 click perimeter and closing rapidly," he said reading the device's output.

"Move it."

 

Roque looked at Pooch who finally sighed and handed him two small remotes. The first was built around two claw arms looking more like a crab who had lost a fight and started growing back one of its claws than anything else, while the second looked more like a self-propelled cooler.

Roque looked at them and nodded. He activated one of his fetishes and shot up much further than planned. He forced himself to concentrated and quickly lowered himself to a respectable hover.

'What was that?' Pooch asked worriedly.

'Magic works a bit... differently along a ley line. It's fine. Just hand me the rope and get me over the mines.'

'Clay, we need to know where Roque can land.'

 

Clay nodded and turned back to the Master Sergeant. "Casey, we need to know where the mine field ends."

Casey shook her head. "No, please... if they're that close clear..."

Clay shook his head; his expression grim and determined. "Master Sergeant, do not start with me. We don't have time for games and we are not leaving without you. Now, tell me where the mine field ends."

He could see her weighing the odds, but training finally won out. "Radius is about twenty yards: enough so that I can walk-not enough so I can walk far.

'You heard her... go.'

 

Pooch gave Roque a worried look as he handed him the rope. 'Just remember, I get you killed mom will never talk to me again... so... it's on you.'

Roque gave him a befuddled look. 'what the...'

'Mama Alvarez takes anybody hurting her boys rather personal-like. I'm counting on you here.'

'Thanks for clarifying. I was beginning to think you were getting all mushie on me.'

'Me, I don't give a frag. I'm curious to see what you'd do if you got stuck out in no-man's land, but I'm guessing whatever it is, it wouldn't be good for the Master Sergeant.'

Roque jerked his shoulders forward as he suppressed a laugh. 'Just push me already.'

Pooch handed him the rope then gave him a solid push towards the center of the clearing, carefully letting the line play out.

 

Casey stood and watched as Roque drifted past the minefield, and gave Clay relieved smile. "Your men are creative."

"Casey, I'd like you to meet Roque," Clay said as his second in command passed into the area around the antenna and canceled the levitation spell.

"Master Sergeant," Roque said with a slight nod.

Casey looked up at him. "Captain... can we dispense with all the military bull-shit and just..."

"Get you out of here?" Roque asked obviously knowing the answer.

She gave him a relieved smile. "Yes, sir, that'd be the one."

He nodded towards the ground and offered her his hand. "I know it's not comfortable, but we have to let Thing one and Thing two here do their thing... and in order to do that they have to be able to see what they're up against."

Casey started to lower herself then accepted his help as she lay down and exposed as much of the collar as possible.

 

Roque did not like the way the woman looked as he helped her lay down on the ground. He could feel the fatigue in her muscles and see it in her aura. He was definitely going to have to work on her.

'Pooch,' he called out experimentally. When there was no sign of discomfort for their patient he continued. 'Can I work on her while you do your thing with the drones- I don't think she can take much more.'

'Should be fine from here,' Pooch answered. 'Boss?'

'I'll stand watch... if there's any sign of trouble I'll call.'

'Copy that.'

Roque placed the drones where they would give Pooch a good view of the collar then gently placed a hand on either of Casey's shoulders. "I'm going to try and get you ready to travel, all right?"

When Casey nodded he patted her shoulder and began to draw the energy he'd need to undo the damage the collar had done.

He was prepared for almost anything, but not for the electric charge that surged through Casey and into him as soon as he started working on her. He let go of the spell and had to force himself to let go of Casey as she began convulsing and the collar continued to deliver a brutally punishing charge into the medic.

He watched as it sent her into convulsions before stopping, his anger building as the collar left her trembling and sent her muscles into spasms.

'Pooch, we need to get this thing off of her... '

'I'm working as fast as I can...give me ten minutes'

'Half a click...' Clay added updating the team.

Roque let his breath out. They didn't have nearly enough time.

 

Pooch connected himself to the remotes and began examining the collar. As much as he hated it, the discharge told him what he needed to know: the collar would remain active as long as it was wrapped around something with a pulse

He disconnected himself from the machines and shook his head. If there was a solution, he couldn't think of it.

'Clay... as long as she's got a pulse, that thing is going to keep doing this to her...'

Pooch was expecting an answer from Clay, either a denial or a plan but instead he a growl from Roque.

'Find a way...'

Pooch gave him an apologetic look and shook his head. The designer had given no other way out. Once the collar was locked, it remained locked until the wearer was dead.

 

As Casey began to show signs of waking, Roque returned, trying to give her what comfort he could. He could feel her muscles twitch beneath his hands. He was about to apologize when he read her body language and sensed her reaching for something.

He waited, feeling slightly disappointed, but understanding. If she had some sort of weapon now was the time she'd go for it. He sighed and waited for her to make her move. He knew she was in no shape to really hurt him but he knew that didn't mean he might miss.

He could feel her free something knife-like and, sighed. He really didn't want to fight her. When she moved, she surprised him and almost succeeded in her plan of action.

He'd been prepared for her to attack him, but not for her to go for the tether. He quickly reached out and twisted her hand until she dropped the knife: a small, well made, practical yet beautiful sgian dubh made of Damascus Steel.

She sagged against him, all the fight gone out of her.

"Please," she gasped. "Please... just... let me go."

He gave her a sad almost apologetic smile. 'Pooch... how long does her heart have to not beat for this thing to give up?'

'What are you thinking?' Pooch demanded shaking his head.

'I'm thinking if we give the lady what she wants... she might just have a chance.'

'No... no...' he said shaking his head.

'You said it yourself Pooch... it's the only way.'

'No... Clay... there's got to be another way.'

'Clay?' Roque asked turning towards his leader and best friend. 'She can't take any more.'

He watched as Clay closed his eyes. 'Do it.'

Roque gave Casey an apologetic smile. "Forgive me..." he said as he put her into a sleeper hold.

Once she was unconscious he laid her out and looked at Pooch. 'Get ready...'

He waited until Pooch was hooked in and then bit back the bitter feelings that were threatening to overwhelm him and put his hand over her nose and mouth. Even unconscious, the mind fought to live, offering up what resistance it could before the end came.

When the struggling stopped he checked for a pulse. Finding none he looked at the drone.

'Hurry!'


	19. Chapter 19

Pooch watched through the photo receptors of his drone, but even filtered through the mechanical eye there was no mistaking the look of sheer disgust on Roque's face.

On his signal, Pooch worked as quickly as he dared clipping wires to the collar until he was sure it was no longer registering a pulse or the need to be active. Unwilling to leave anything to chance he quickly attached wires to extend the collar and then carefully removed it, using the drone to shield the Master Sergeant as much as possible just in case.

It came off without as much as an amp's discharge.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he had the first drone deposit the collar in the blast compartment of the second. Only then did he give the all clear.

 

Roque clenched his fist as he waited and watched, praying he hadn't made a mistake. He knew Pooch was working as quickly as he dared but he could sense the chances of bringing Casey back slipping away as the seconds ticked by.

He felt his stomach sink as he watched Pooch carefully manipulate the drone, doing the fine work needed to expand the collar and save the Master Sergeant's life. He waited, hatred burning like a cold fire in the pit of his stomach.

The fact that this had been done to a non-combatant was bad enough but knowing that this was the fate they had planned for one of his team, one of his brothers was too much. His blood demanded vengeance and he would make them pay in kind... heaven help them if he couldn't revive Casey.

'Done... go.' He heard Pooch over the comm. channel.

It was all the urging he needed.

He focused all his energy on finding the faintest spark of life, like finding one remaining ember in the ashes of a devastating fire. He used the power around him to coax the ember into a flame... protecting it until he could repair the damage done to her body. He used the power around him to repair the damaged vessel so it could support the spirit of a woman whose last conscious effort had been one of self-sacrifice.

He drew her spirit to him, willing it to return, convincing it to reclaim its rightful home. The spark became a beacon, guiding that which was Master Sergeant Casey Kaye back to her body.

It became a tug of war, his magic, his skill and will power pitted against the damages done by the device and the passage of time. He smiled when he felt the balance tip in his favor as Casey joined him in the fight.

He could feel the power sing through his hands as she took her first unaided breath and he felt her pulse throb beneath his fingers. He gently brushed his lips across her forehead and gathered her into his arms.

'Pooch,' he called over the comm. as he levitated them ten inches off the ground. 'Pull us the hell out of here.'

 

Pooch looked up quickly checking the perimeter reports. "Clay, they haven't spied the drones yet... should I engage?"

"Not yet. Let's get Roque back on this side and find a safe place for the Master Sergeant. Then we can discuss tactics."

Pooch nodded and with Clay helping, he quickly had Roque and the Master Sergeant on their side of the mine field.

Pooch watched Roque worriedly. He recognized the look in Roque's eyes and knew that when Roque got that look-people tended to die.

 

Clay was about to set up their line of defense when Roque handed him the Master Sergeant.

"Clay," Roque said in a calm matter of fact tone. "You're going to want to get any of their prisoners out of the way and stay out of the line of fire."

Clay swore when he heard that tone in Roque's voice. Many officers had always thought that he was the most dangerous of the team, but that was simply because Roque kept his dangerous side well hidden. It helped that Roque didn't want to lead. He didn't particularly care to follow either, which made him a perfect second in command, but when he got that tone, Clay knew there would be no talking to him, no changing his mind. There was just doing as the man 'suggested' if he wanted to keep casualties down on their side.

The fact that he had no interest in talking his friend down never entered into the equation. It was simply why the two worked so well together.

"Pooch, get me a solution."

 

Pooch activated his rig, singling out each remote along the perimeter to make sure they were reporting truthfully, and to see what he could see from each one. Inside one of them he felt the presence of another rigger, trying to access his feeds and wrest control of the remote from him.

Pooch smiled and set a switch on the remote, before quickly disconnecting. The remote was compromised but that didn't mean he couldn't use it to his advantage.

He quickly moved to the others and was relieved to find only the one had been found. Just to be sure he clicked over to the system he'd worked with Jensen on, combining the decker's encrypting routine with his own phasing system. If anyone had taken control of the others, they'd lost them now.

He continued his search and nodded. They were sneaky bastards, but he was sneakier.

 

Clay carried Casey to a sheltered area within the forest as he studied the lay of the land. Smiling he stood next to Roque and nodded towards a small rise in the woods. "Think that would be a good stopping point for you?"

Roque studied the topography and smiled. "Just as long as you get out of the way... I'd hate to have to find a new commanding officer."

"I'd hate to put you through the search," Clay answered with a cheerful smile.

"Clay, we got a problem..."

Clay simply looked at Pooch as he joined them. "They've got three groups converging on us, all offensive, no by-standers. Two groups of twenty are coming in at our ten and our two. Problem is there's another ten trying to flank us... and they aren't keeping together. Oh, and one of them is trying to backtrack us through one of our drones."

Clay smiled. "Is that a problem?"

"For him: it's about to suffer catastrophic failure."

"Okay. Roque, can you break up your shot?"

Roque shook his head as he pulled out another piece of licorice root. He nodded towards the rise Clay had pointed out. "We use that for the ones coming from the two. I'll see if I can get some friends to deal with the ones coming up on our ten... use their own equipment against them."

Clay looked back and the mine field and nodded.

"Pooch, the ten are yours... yell if you need help."

Pooch slipped his sun glasses on and smiled as he activated the combat heads up display built into his shades. "No problem."

 

Clay moved off to the right, working his way behind the ridge knowing that Roque would do his best to protect him, but for the most part he was on his own. He just had to get twenty soldiers to follow him, without killing him, and then get out of the way.

He studied the approach and quickly laid a trail out for the attacking force to follow. He knew almost anything could happen, but the real danger was going to be getting out of Roque's way.

 

Roque chewed on the licorice root as he contemplated his next course of action. Normally he would call upon the 'friends' he'd already summoned, but their location called for something a bit more... primal, a bit more local.

He began the chant he would need, firmly centering himself on the intersection of two ley lines. Things were about to get interesting.

 

Pooch began moving his drones, like pieces on a heavily forested chess board. As the attackers closed in, he triggered the 'catastrophic failure' in drone 237.

'Here they come,' he warned.

He activated the split screen display, watching the attackers as they kept to the shadows. When three of them were within range he triggered another one of his sentry drones for a full 360 burst.

It was on.

 

Clay quickly slipped behind a tree when he heard movement to his left. 'Of course they'd send an advanced scout or two.' he thought to himself as he listened to their movements.

'One loud, one stealthy,' he added as he realized that one was to draw him out, the other to take him down. He smiled.

They were good, he had to give them that. He was just better.

He avoided the obvious target, quickly slipping behind his silent guard and taking him out with a slap patch before moving on. If he were lucky, they now had someone to question after the impending violence.

 

 

Roque felt rather than saw the guardians of the forest as they came at his summons. Unlike his trip through the astral where he was simply passing by and was ignored he had dared to call upon them. They were not happy.

'We are not your servants... some lesser beings to do thy bidding mortal.'

Roque nodded, actually bowing to them. 'I understand that, but violence has been done in your domain, and I am about to do far more.'

'You wish to harm others of your kind?'

'I am going to do harm to those who tortured this woman's spirit and harmed her body... But I am one man and they are many.'

'And you feel you are good, and we should help you?'

'No, I'm a very bad man, and I'm about to do very bad things. But this woman is good- this woman is a healer and they repaid her goodness with their own evil...'

The spirits paused. He could tell they were not used to one of his kind ever saying they were 'bad.' No, the men who had tried to control them were convinced they were good, that their cause was just, that the spirits should come to their aid.

'What would you have us do?'

Roque shook his head. 'Allow my friends to help me in this endeavor. And when we are done, return so that we may talk about the dark magics being done here, for I am bad... these men are worse.'

The spirits moved among themselves, oddly perplexed by his requests.

'You are a strange man among stranger men William Roque. We shall agree.'

Roque again bowed. 'Now would be a good time to remove any you protect from the battlefield.'

 

 

Pooch updated the display in his glasses with a head count of his targets. He split his time between the systems of his drones and his own movements. While the heads up display on his glasses made it look like a video game, he knew this was no game.

He never lost sight of the fact that this was a very dangerous world and what he did was final. He also knew that didn't mean he couldn't have fun with it.

His attack force now numbered 7.5 and they were closing in.

 

 

Clay eased the silent sentinel to the forest floor and quickly slipped back into the shadows. These men were tricky, and he wouldn't put it past them to have a third watcher waiting for him. There had been too many 'failed missions' in the area, too many 'incidents' to believe any of it had been coincidental.

Someone wanted the international plot discovered. Someone wanted the military forces from multiple countries converging on this region and someone wanted people of varying skills sets at their disposal.

He wondered if others had been coerced as Cougar and Jensen had been. He wondered how many of the now captive soldiers had been sent to this area like wine at a fine restaurant, and how many had come looking for their friends.

He smiled to himself as he sensed a third man entering the area, they were indeed tricky. He looked forward to seeing the sneaky meet the so unsubtle actions of his teammates.

He slipped behind the third man and took him out with a choke hold.

Two down, eighteen to go.

 

 

Permission granted, Roque called upon his trio of 'friends.' He was glad that unlike some mages he did not treat those he summoned as lesser beings, but rather forces he worked with. It meant more work, and a degree of trust on both sides, but it also meant that at times like these, they were more than willing to help.

He knew the first earth elemental he'd called upon had a special dislike for electricity. That meant he would be more than interested in harming those who had earned Roque's ire.

The second earth elemental tended to go where the first one went. He wasn't sure exactly how that worked since no one had ever bothered asking the elementals, but he figured it was between those two and it was not his place to question it.

Truth be told, the two of them reminded him of Cougar and Jensen. One bombastic and full of life and curiosity and the other silent, accepting and protective of the first.

It kind of made sense. The final member of the trio reminded him of Pooch, coming along with the others if for no other reason than to see what trouble they would get themselves into.

When he explained the plan, he sensed both their hesitation and their approval. From them he learned that there was a rather large, very old earth elemental working with their enemies.

He knew he would have to save some of his energy for that one.

 

Pooch was convinced the approaching soldiers had watched one too many a military Trid. At least they were treating the exercise as a Tri Dimensional game rather than a simple video and for that he blamed or praised the use of in home three D.

They obviously hadn't learned from any proper form of training. Otherwise they would have learned to look for trouble from every tree; every rise... every tin can in their pathway.

It was easy to set a drone to hover and wait, and that's the sort of attack they were looking for. If however your opponent had ever trained for say... jungle warfare, covert tactics or close quarter combat they were sitting ducks.

He smiled as two soldiers converged on a drone hovering just to the left of their approach. As one of them prepared to dispatch it and the other worked to cover his teammate, Pooch signaled the ground unit to rise and deliver a 180 burst at the same time as the real hover drone dropped its tow cable on the log it was using as a decoy.

Final score three down, two injured: one critical. Badguys 0


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very Special Thanks to: Cougar's Catnip for Proofreading goodness. Without CC, you would not be seeing more of this story. Please note, this big post of 20 chapters clears a backlog of chapters. From here on out I will posting at a rate of 1-2 chapters a week depending on how the editing process goes.

Clay realized his mistake the moment he straightened up after setting the second man on the ground. Two was sneaky; three were good tactics: four was just ornery.

As he prepared for his next move he was very thankful that the enemy was relying on numbers and intimidation and was working to capture any enemy combatants they found. If not he knew he'd be dead right now. As it was, he held his hands out to his sides for a moment, turning and smiling at both men until he was sure he knew where they both were.

He continued to smile and pretended to comply as he was instructed to drop his weapons and put his hands on his head.

If Cougar were here he knew the men would fall with a single nod, since he wasn't Clay knew it was up to him. He gave a half nod, half bow to the man in front of him as he carefully reached two fingers to the butt of his pistol and pulled it from his holster.

Only those well acquainted with Clay would have noticed when his smile shifted from 'see I'm harmless' to 'you dumb fraggers'. They also would have seen the double taps coming.

In one fluid move he dropped the pistol he was holding with two fingers, rotated, drawing a second pistol and catching the first in his off hand. The four shots that followed seemed like overkill.

He gave the two dead soldiers a slight shrug and moved on. The sound should have been enough to draw the remaining sixteen and he did not want to be there when they arrived.

 

 

Roque gave a slight snort when he heard gunfire coming from the area directly behind him and the area where Clay had disappeared. The others were already having fun.

He just hoped Clay and Pooch understood that when their attackers realized that The Losers were more trouble than they were worth that they would go for the kill. He was fairly certain Pooch would be looking for that moment, but he was never entirely sure if Clay was aware of it.

When Clay got something into his head, it was really hard to get it out. Fortunately, or not depending on the circumstance, that lack of judgment was usually reserved for the women in his life. Still you never knew when that would spill over into the battlefield, as more than one woman had.

'Especially women whose names begin with vowels,' he thought to himself as he sensed the Earth Elemental being directed towards Clay's position.

Shaking his head he took his knife and drew it across his palm, making a small cut. As he let a few drops of blood fall to the ground he smiled and nodded, almost challenging.

"I'm right over here," he called, letting his challenge echo across the physical and astral worlds. When the elemental turned, he knew he had his work cut out for him.

 

 

Pooch activated his connection to the hover drone and scanned the area. Once he was sure it was secure, he used it to pick up the sentry drone and move it closer in.

As he suspected the action brought unwanted attention and as two men popped up to take it out he activated two other sentries with instructions to shoot anything that moved that wasn't one of their unit.

Five shots were fired at the drones before thirty seven shots from the sentries settled the argument. Heavily armed equipment 2: Badguys still 0.

Overall status:

Sentry 344: down to half ammo

Sentry 343: down to three quarters amo

Sentry 356: operating within normal parameters

Sentry 357: Waiting for orders

Hover Drone 313: Placing Sentry 326 ahead of enemy advance

Hover Drone 513: Playing wall flower

As he prepared to move Pooch smiled. Oh, these boys were tricky. He dropped and rolled, firing two shots into the bushes. He sat and counted to three and on the final count a man in electronic camo fell into the open, dead.

'Clay, Roque, be advised: these boys have a few folks with camo designed to fool the heat sensors on the drones.

 

 

'Are you all right?' Clay asked as he moved closer to the ridge.

'Oh, I'm fine, a little pissed but fine. Just wasn't expecting them to be this sneaky... it also means we don't have a good head count. '

Clay continued to move as he listened to Pooch's report, and quickly ducked behind some trees when he heard movement to his left.

'Roque, how soon till you're ready with a little fire support?'

 

 

Roque let his breath out slowly as he studied the approaching Earth Elemental. He was taller and broader than the trio combined and he did not look happy.

'Clay, hold that thought-I have to have a discussion with a rather cranky looking elemental...'

Roque moved closer, letting a little more of his blood spill on the ground before him. "Like I said... I'm right here..."

When the elemental turned towards him, Roque opened his senses, letting the vision of the astral blend with the normal to get a full picture. This elemental had a taste for blood, and that was fine with Roque.

He tilted his head and stretched his neck, releasing the tension there with a sickening crack. "Yeah, that's right... " he said looking at the elemental like he knew something it didn't.

It turned and for the briefest of moments Roque saw the power that bound it to another's will, like strands of a golden chain. He knew this fight could go any one of at least five ways, but at least it would be challenging.

As the Elemental sank into the earth Roque smiled. In the physical world he couldn't track the behemoth, but in the Astral he could sense it moving towards him. When he struck he struck hard and fast mercilessly cutting, not at the Elemental, but at the chains that bound it.

By the time he'd finished only the faintest of threads remained. Satisfied, Roque stepped aside and waited for the elemental to appear.

 

 

Pooch scanned the area as he did a quick pat down on the man in the cammo suit. He paused, as if polling the remotes, all the while focusing on his surroundings. When nothing moved, he focused on the suit.

He continued to listen while using the different filters on his shades to see if he could find a combination that would reveal the wearer, or at least give some indication that something wasn't as it should be.

He knew he was taking a chance remaining in one place for too long but if he couldn't find a way to defeat the suit, they would be at a serious disadvantage, unless of course Roque just blasted the living daylights out of the area.

His eyes widened slightly at the thought but knew too well that wasn't the way to go.

He was about to start another scan when he was forced to flatten himself against a tree. He heard rather than saw the figure moving towards his downed man. Things had just gotten very interesting.

 

 

'You're going to want to be very careful with these bastards,' Clay informed the others as he half slid, half ducked beneath a fallen tree, twisting to return fire as he moved.

'They like to travel in packs of three to four, one or two making noise.'

He paused as he stood, fired three shots before ducking behind a rock and after a beat throwing himself to the ground and rolling into the underbrush before the men tracking him had a chance to realize he had already left the area.

'With the others just waiting for you to pop up so they can get the drop on you.'

He waited to see if they figured out where he was. This was getting too close.

'Roque you got an ETA on that fireball?'

'Still negotiating,' Roque replied, but Clay could tell from the tone that he was having his own issues.

 

 

Roque watched as the elemental rose from the ground in all its glory. He did not react with violence, although anything more sensitive than a rock would have read the threat and danger in his stance, and felt the barely controlled fury that churned just beneath the surface.

It was enough to give the elemental pause, though only barely.

"You dare challenge me?" It demanded.

"I dare, and I dare challenge those who summoned you. Though they would rather have you do their dirty work while they merely watch... the question is-what do you dare?"

"I?"

"You are here by their choosing-you are only able to manifest here because of the ties they have placed on you... so you have a choice."

"Humans do not give choices."

"I. Am. Giving. You. A. Chance. Stay here, fight me... you might win-but I doubt it. I will hurt you and then I will send you home."

"That is no choice."

"That is ONE choice."

"What else?"

"I can sever their bond to you-allow you to return home... no harm no foul."

"Both ways I go home, and perhaps I will hurt you before you can send me home."

"If you want to try and hurt me... we can go that route," Roque said, licking his knives. "And I will enjoy every moment of proving why that was a bad decision... or..."

"Or..."

"I am not the one who brought you here. I am not the one who has ordered you to attack... I can break the bonds that bind you to them-allow you to seek vengeance on them... before you go home."

"I think I will hurt you first."

"I think not."

 

 

Casey tried to move, to respond to the attention she was getting, but it was as if she was operating on a different frequency than everyone else. She heard Clay say something, but when she turned to comment, he was long gone.

She thought she saw his men but again, they were there one moment and by the time she'd open her eyes and tried to respond they were gone. She remembered one of them coming for her and then there was nothing but pain, and then a bright light that didn't burn. She had been at peace, the first true peace she had ever known and then she was back where everything, even breathing hurt.

Part of her wished she was still there, but the sensation of hard rock and leaves beneath her told her she was alive. Instinct told her that if she wanted to stay that way she needed to wake up and, more importantly, stay awake.

She forced her eyes open, only to have them drift closed again.

She knew this was not going to be easy, but she also knew that she was in the middle of a combat situation and combat meant injuries, and injuries meant she had work that needed to be done or people would die.

It took her three tries to keep her eyes open for more than five seconds, but it was starting to pay off. 'Another five minutes and I'll be able to see,' she thought.

It was something to work for.

 

 

Pooch shuddered: this was feeling way too much like a live fire version of one of the exercises he'd done with Cougar on the obstacle course back on post, part of Clay's cross training program. Clay said he wanted people to not only be able to take over for each other, he wanted them to know and understand how the other worked in that position.

While he didn't expect Pooch to act like Cougar when he was skulking about, any more than he expected anyone taking over for Jensen to code wearing nothing but his boxers. What he did want was for everyone to know how the other operated.

And so Pooch had been forced to work with Cougar 'expanding his senses and awareness'. While they both knew he would never be able to match the reflexes of a Physical Adept, Cougar had insisted that it didn't mean he couldn't work to learn to focus on his senses and more to the point hone them and after the first few failed attempts, Pooch had managed to improve.

Now he was very glad Cougar had put him through that particular hell. Sitting there tucked in against the broadside of a tree, he could hear two sets of footsteps coming towards him. He thought about Clay's warning and realized it was time to level the playing field.

He activated the hover drone he'd kept in reserve and prayed its 'friend/foe' recognition was working up to speed.

 

 

Clay was running out of room. He had been working his way closer and closer to the edge but unless Roque was ready for him it was going to be for nothing.

'Uh, Roque, not that I'm complaining or anything... but... these guys are getting a little dense around here.'

'In a minute Clay, this guy is not taking go away for an answer.'

 

 

Roque knew he had to finish this bout and soon unless he wanted to go looking for a new commander. He smiled slightly at the thought as he danced around the elemental.

'Why do you smile...? I am winning.'

"Winning? It takes a lot more than just showing up to win. You know for a Dirtball you have a very high opinion of yourself... I think maybe it's time you learn a thing or two... like when you're summoned with blood... and you feed on... blood... it's a really bad idea to face off against someone with an intimate knowledge of how blood magic really works."

As he spoke Roque drew power, not only from his surroundings but from the blood which bound the Elemental not only to this plane, but to its corporeal form.

He thought about banishing the elemental for a moment then shook his head. It wanted a fight-it was going to get a fight it wouldn't forget-if it survived, which given Roque's current state was highly unlikely.

He gave a feral snarl as he plunged both his combat knives into the elemental while transmuting the energy he'd gathered into heat. The Elemental shrieked as it began to burn from the inside.

It twisted, hitting Roque in the side as it flailed but with his knives buried to the hilt he held on, all the while laughing at the creature.

"In the next life... take the easy way out." He told it as he drew all the power he could from the elemental. "You won't be needing any of this now..."

He held on until the knives were too hot to hold and slid down, watching the Elemental harden into obsidian.

He fell to his knees from the weight of the power that had been exchanged. Only then did he really feel the pain in his ribs and recognize the signs of internal damage. He glared at the remains of the Elemental as he fought to catch his breath.

With a snarl he lashed out, shattering what remained of the Elemental: lesson over.

'Clay... We're only going to get one chance with this...' His warning was punctuated by gasps for air.

'Clay...? '


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clay, Roque and Pooch in the Jungle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: The saga continues. Thanks once again to Cougar's Catnip, without whom you would never have seen the rest of this since there's a lot of proofreading to do and I cannot do it alone (I read what I meant to be there as opposed to what is actually there)

 

Pooch held his breath. He could hear the two men approaching from different angles and knew it was only a matter of seconds until they would see him but his only concern now was which would be faster, the stealthy bad guys or Drone 513.

His money was on Drone 513.

Weapon drawn he waited until the first two entered his field of vision, hoping to get as many of them lined up for the drone as possible. The only problem was, in order to bring the bad guys into the open, he would have to put himself in the middle of them.

"Yoohoo! Hold it right there boys," he said training a pistol on each of the men.

He fought to suppress a smile as he heard a "No, you hold it," from behind.

After a moment he did smile. It wasn't like they could see him. "I don't think so" he said as Drone 513 began firing.

As the drone fired on the two men behind him, he shot the two in his sights. His shot from his dominant hand hit true, dropping the man immediately, but his off hand shot was marred by the man dropping to one knee. He turned to finish off the man on his left.

As he did, his drone rotated, detecting more movement behind him. As Pooch fired two rounds into the kneeling man the drone fired a three round burst at the man moving in on Pooch from behind. The first shot grazed Pooch's leg, but all three shots were neatly fired into the fifth and final attacker.

Pooch leaned against the tree for support as he looked at the bodies around him then glared at the drone for a moment. Granted it had only grazed him, and he was just in the way of the man who was about to drill him in the back of the skull, but he couldn't help but feel like his drone had betrayed him.

It didn't help that the drone hung a little lower than usual-it almost made it look like the machinery had realized it had made a mistake. The damage around him was impressive, and he'd have enjoyed it a lot more if he weren't trying to bind his leg so he could move and not leave a blood trail.

The fiasco did however give him one thing to go on-a faint energy reading from the power source and the web it wove around the wearer. He quickly took control of the drone and got its reading on the signal and sent it out to the others. 

They were to follow his orders on everything, unless they saw that signature. Then they were to deliver a ten round burst to the source. Overkill maybe, but he was done playing.

'Guys... does it really count as a point for them if I get tagged by one of my own drones?'

'Guys?'

-:-

Casey sat up and almost lost her meager dinner in the process, but at least she was upright. She could hear the sounds of battle raging all around her and knew unconscious on the battlefield was synonymous with dead.

She still wasn't at her best, but she didn't need to be, she just needed to be upright and preferably armed.

It was something most people didn't get about her. Casey did not believe in war but she did not believe in being a helpless victim either. If forced to chose between fighting or dying- she would chose fighting every time. She fought, for herself and for those under her care, but she did not believe in war, for the most part.

There were wars that had to be fought because some megalomaniacs would have it no other way, but those wars were few and far between and this was not one of them, although with the way some of the soldiers she'd dealt with had treated her, she was beginning to rethink that stance.

She dragged herself over to one of the packs lying on the ground near her and began digging until she found a pistol and a first aid kit.

One more step in the direction of being alive when this all ended.

-:-

Clay fought to remain still as a drone programmed for hunt-seek hovered overhead. He knew it had located him, but it was still hovering-waiting for something, most likely its rigger's command.

He was fairly certain he'd over stayed his welcome but without confirmation from Roque proceeding with the rest of the plan was not an option.

"Stay right where you are," a voice spoke through the drone. "Any move will result in your immediate termination."

Clay smiled innocently at the drone's photo receptors. At least he knew they were still trying to capture him. He activated his comm and found only static.

"Any further attempts at communication will be viewed as a hostile act and you will be terminated."

Clay sighed as he realized they only wanted him alive at this point if it didn't put any more of them at risk.

-:-

Pooch knew he was running out of time. The plan had been simple, if a bit short on details, but that was the way things like this went. You covered your area and depended on the others to cover theirs. The only problem was-he had no idea if they were still alive and merely being jammed or if they were captured and he was thoroughly fragged.

Since he didn't like the second option he stuck with the first option: working on taking out the remainder of his ten plus playmates so he could aid the others. As far as he knew the score was now 4.5 men still active, to his one leg injury thanks to 513.

He was about to move when he heard footsteps around him. Sure enough... 4.5 men were surrounding him, guns drawn. He held his hands up. The injured man was obviously not buying his 'what's up fellahs?' smile

"If you or one of your drones move, we will shoot."

Pooch shrugged and was about to call his drones in when the first man pulled back the hammer on his pistol. "Do and it will be the last thing you do."

Pooch did his best to remain perfectly still and do nothing threatening, all the while thinking, it was a good thing Jensen weren't here, he could just imagine the decker trying not to move.

As it was, he was having a hard enough time not moving with his leg injury.

-:-

Roque was not happy. He glared at the shattered remains of the earth elemental and wondered if he could revive it just to kill it again. With a nasty smile he decided that he would take it up with the person who'd summoned it in the first place once he'd dealt with the mage's 'friends.'

With no communications he had to assume the worst. He was alone with an injured non-combatant in his care and two friends to avenge.

This was not going to be easy. He drew a deep breath and called the Elementals to him, if there was any chance of salvaging the mission and rescuing the others he was going to have to re-task two of them. If nothing else, they would retrieve the bodies of his fallen comrades for proper burial.

It would also leave his left flank unguarded.

-:-

Clay listened to the sound of approaching footsteps and knew that if he didn't do something soon he was lost. He had seen how these people treated prisoners, he had witnessed the damage they had done to Casey and he understood Roque's wrath at what had been done.

He knew being killed outright was preferable to spending even an hour as their prisoner, and he'd be damned if he was going to be used as a hostage against the others especially when magic was involved.

He made no claim to understand magic other than the fact that, in the right hands it was a devastating weapon. He also knew those hands were not his. It was why he left magic, tactical magic and counter magics firmly in Roque's control.

He was a good leader and he knew when to leave those with the know how to deal with their particular specialty. It was why the Losers were such a good team.

He thought about calling in Roque's 'air strike' but knew it would only come when the mage was ready and knew he was safe... well... it would come when Roque was ready.

Dying in the attack that killed these bastards was far more preferable than dying at their hands and they both knew it.

At least he knew it would take them with him.

-:-

Pooch realized the problem with their instructions immediately. While most of the drones were under his direct control, they did have standing orders to shoot anything that matched the energy signature of the camo suit.

"Look guys," he began. "Being serious here, if you don't let me contact..."

He tensed when he saw the injured soldier pull his rifle up, but instead of shooting him the man settled for striking him with the stock. As the blow connected with his jaw and darkness began swimming around him he heard the sound of gunfire and felt something hit his shoulder. His mind was still swimming trying to process signals from his brain and those from his drones as he felt a searing pain in his leg.

"Damn 513," he swore as he reached out to his drones signaling them to shoot at anything and everything in the area and to self-destruct when they ran out of ammo. He hoped it would take as many of them out as possible.

Then everything was still.

-:-

Despite himself Clay sat up as gunfire erupted in the distance. "No," he said as he looked in the direction where the shots had come from. "Pooch..."

His tone was almost dead as he stared in disbelief.

"You were warned..." the voice from the drone reminded him.

Faced with being gunned down by a machine or fighting back, Clay drew his weapon and returned fire.

He felt three shots hit him in the chest, and from the feel of things his vest had been able to stop two of them. He forced the air out of his lungs, letting out a low growl as he continued firing.

He felt another shot connect from behind and still kept firing.

His last conscious effort was to take as many of them with him as he could.

-:-

The sound of gunfire in the distance, and its sudden stop told Roque what he needed to know. His friends were in a better place where the enemy could never touch them again. He drew the power he had taken from the elemental and shaped it with will power alone.

He fed his fury into the spell and centered it on those who would dare hurt his friends. He aimed first at the ridge where Clay had been, smiling as he heard their screams and saw the rise engulfed in flame of his creation. He gave a feral smile, then turned, putting his back to the mayhem he'd created.

He gathered more energy from the ley lines, shaped it with the anger and pain he had experienced working on Casey. He thought Pooch would appreciate that. He had never been one for vengeance so Roque chose instead to avenge the damage done to the medic.

Nearly spent he turned, barely aware of the form rising behind him, he let loose the spell even as the drones in the area began to blow themselves apart.

"Took you long enough..." he said as he dropped to his knees exhausted.

-:-

Clay smiled and shook the dirt out of his hair. "Yeah well... Sucking chest wounds are a bitch," he said trying to catch his breath. "And your 'friends' don't always get that whole needing to breathe thing. Not to mention they aren't always the best mode of transport when you're injured."

"So you keep telling me," Roque answered as he tried to catch his breath

"Still," Clay said looking at the rise where he'd been only minutes before. "Fast, effective and sneaky."

"That's me and the boys," Roque said sagging a little more. "'Fraid the last twenty are up to you, Pooch, and the boys. Do me proud."

Clay smiled and nodded. "I'll try not to disappoint."

"You do that ..."

"You all right? 'Cause this is looking like more than drain."

Roque waved him off. "Their Elemental didn't want to leave... we had *words*."

Clay looked at the obsidian shards and shook his head. "I'll have to take your word for it," he said before a coughing fit brought him to his knees.

"Maybe you should sit this one out... let Pooch and the boys deal with the last set.

"Speaking of Pooch... "

Clay looked around, starting to get worried when the ground erupted just to his left and one of Roque's 'boys' emerged from beneath them. .

Pooch rolled out of its protective embrace and immediately grimaced as he put weight on his injured leg. As he caught his breath, he gave Roque an accusatory look.

"You did this on purpose didn't you?"

"If by 'on purpose' you mean saving your life... then yes. If by..." Roque stopped noticing the way Pooch was moving. "Pooch?"

"Yeah... shot twice, same leg... my drone," Pooch spat out.

Clay looked at Roque. "I'm thinking... we evac from here, your boys see if anyone wants to learn about claymores... and we head home... "

"As soon as I have a short discussion with a combat mage, and talk to some spirits..."

Clay rolled his eyes. 'Mages.'

-:-

Casey knew she was tired when her entire reaction to a pair of earth elementals showing up was to give them a dubious look. She tried to slip the strap of the first aid kit she'd found over her shoulder, but when she failed to do so the second time she gave up.

She looked at the condition of her rescuers, doing her best to triage their injuries from the distance and gave up. From where she sat, they all looked equally bad.

"All right... one of you... please make your way over to the seated medic and prepare to be poked and prodded."

When the men looked at her she rolled her head to take them all in. "Look, I can't look any worse than the rest of you... and if you're going to insist on keeping up with this insanity-I can only do the same."

-:-

Clay studied the medic for a moment and nodded. "Pooch..."

Pooch looked at him. "Oh, right... have the guy who can't walk go see the medic who can't move. Am I the only one who sees the problem with this?"

As he complained he held his hand out to Clay, unsurprised when his CO helped him up and half dragged, half carried him over to the Medic.

"Once you're able-we're going to need that rotorcraft," Clay told him.

"I can do that now, if Casey here doesn't need me for anything..."

Clay gave Casey a questioning look.

"Anything other than the leg?" she asked Pooch.

"No, that's it..."

"In that case, putting your mind elsewhere might be better," she said as she checked his injuries. The wounds weren't nearly as worrisome as the dirt embedded in them.

Clay knew that cleaning the wounds was going to hurt. He nodded.

"There you have it."


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Proof that there can always be more to a story

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Cougar's Catnip for Proofing goodness and making life easier for me!
> 
> Standard disclaimers still apply - I own neither the Losers nor Shadowrun... I just thought they made a good combination. Diggle, WB, Dark Horse... Catalyst games - they own them, and I in no way am trying to say otherwise. Enjoy.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

Roque watched the exchange shaking his head. As much as he wanted to 'talk' to the combat mage who'd summoned the Earth Elemental he knew that the most important thing was to make sure the team made it home alive. He watched as Casey went to work, his levels of concern lowering as he saw her in her element.

She was quick and thorough, and obviously relieved that Pooch was in no position to feel her cleaning out his wounds. He chuckled slightly when he realized it was one less thing Pooch would be able to complain about.

He looked up at Clay and gestured for him to join him. 'You, my friend, have a choice. I either heal you-or you're next...'

'What about you?'

'That's the thing about internal damage,' Roque said. It's internal...'

'Heal yourself. I'll wait for the lady,' he replied with an almost defiant twinkle in his eyes.

'At least her name begins with a consonant,' Roque muttered.

'What?' Clay asked giving him a dubious look.

-:-

Clay watched to make sure Roque did actually heal himself, then and only then did he sit down next to Casey and let her work on him.

He winced as he helped her pull off his body armor and shirt resulting in her 'shhh-ing' him and taking it off herself. He had to admit she had a light touch and... the bedside manner of a medic, eg: none.

"Really?" she asked him as she looked studied his wound. "What? Unless you're coughing up blood, anything more than a hangnail goes before you?"

"We needed Pooch to get the rotorcraft," he objected. "And Roque can take care of himself."

He pointedly ignored Roque's laugh as he tried stoically to sit and be a good patient.

"Tactics I leave to you, but let me assure you when it comes to triage... you suck... literally... See this?" she asked as she pointed to his chest. "You are suffering from pneumothorax, more commonly known as a sucking chest wound. Tactically speaking, you cannot, should not fly with this. This requires treatment prior to transport."

Clay smiled at her. "I'm being treated."

Casey shook her head. "Charming will not work here Colonel, death doesn't care if you're witty and friendly or an ogre. Right now you're lucky all you're having is coughing fits. The only reason you're upright right now is because you have implants that suppress pain, and to be honest I need supplies to do this right.

"What do you need?"

"I may have to resort to a needle... which from the looks of things I may have to improvise. I need to make a seal... which again, I'm going to have to go with the less than effective since my kit is on the other side of the mine field."

"Can you make do?"

Casey looked at him, a smile crossing her face. "Can I make do he asks," she muttered to herself, shaking her head she rummaged around another pack and came up with a few supplies. "When this is over, you will find me, and I will make sure you and your team have proper medical supplies, no arguments, no rank. You will do this," she orderd, smiling as she found a second first aid kit and let out a shout of triumph when she found what she was looking for.

Clay smiled his best, most charming smile. "Yes ma'am."

When she started to object to Clay calling her 'ma'am', he did the first thing that came to mind and kissed her.

-:-

Roque watched carefully knowing that with Pooch hooked into the rotocraft's controls and Casey working on Clay that it fell to him to stand watch. It helped that his friends were probably the best 'pressure switches' he could ask for.

The enemy's cammo might render them invisible to the drones, but they still had weight and wherever they were, the earth elementals could 'feel' them.

So far, the third team had chosen not to engage, but that probably meant that they were waiting for reinforcements.

It all came down to a question of timing.

Would Pooch be able to get their transport to them before the enemy attacked, before they got a line of the vehicle... before Clay messed things up with the medic...?

Roque shook his head and sighed. It wasn't the women... it was Clay.

-:-

Casey blinked, dumbfounded.

Mixed signals ran through her as she felt the elation of being alive warring with the desire to remain that way. Logic told her the last thing they needed was being distracted from the goal but it felt...

No. She pushed herself away and shook her head. "We will finish this conversation," she said she said in her no-nonsense Master Sergeant voice, surprised at how out of breath she felt.

Even after the stern warning, she found herself drawn back to his...

No.

"Sucking Chest wound," she warned, focusing on the current situation. "Now, let me get this taken care of."

All things considered, she was surprised she'd actually managed to remember how to speak English.

-:-

Roque winced in pain as he tried not to laugh. He'd been able to heal the majority of the internal damage, but the cost of staying upright meant his ribs were still broken.

Then again, it was almost worth it just to see Clay squirm. He let himself drift into the astral enough to check the surrounding area. The mage was definitely avoiding them.

He wasn't sure if he was disappointed or relieved, not that it really mattered. He still needed to talk to the forest spirits and for that he'd need his wits about him.

Forest spirits were notorious for having no sense of humor and enjoying their word games a bit too much.

While he waited he checked his friends' auras. Clay was back to his usual calm, with a hint of impishness- pretty much normal where there was a woman involved.

Pooch's aura was the disturbingly dark blue bordering on black he had when he was jacked into a machine or control rig, although he could still see hints of orange. He'd have to watch that when Pooch's mind came back with their rotorcraft.

Then there was Casey. Her colors were still muted, but he could also see the tendrils of green wrapping around her like a healing web. It made him do a double take. He hadn't put a web around her- and the green was almost too light... like tender spring shoots tentative...

He paused shaking his head, then looked again.

She wasn't drawing it from Clay's attention, or thankfully from Clay, no... the forest was reaching out to heal her and she accepted it without conscious effort. This was most unusual indeed.

-:-

As Pooch contacted the control unit on the rotorcraft and began his preflight checks, he polled his remaining two remotes. Drone 1313, the 'Drone of Last Resort' as Jensen called it, reported back that the others were safe and a quick check through the drone's systems let him see that Roque had healed himself, the medic had finished working on him and was now working on Clay, and that Clay had tried to put the medic in a lip lock.

He could see the twinkle in the Colonel's eyes and knew the Master Sergeant was in for an interesting time.

The golfball sized remote on the other hand indicated that the number of prisoners now numbered 7, with two of their number locked into mage hoods. The images showed them being held in a cave. He thought of the spell Roque had spoken of and knew they'd have to get those people out. He noted the remote's location and power levels and programmed it to snooze to conserve energy.

He plotted the course to where he and the others waited, and return course that would take them to the prisoners. He had no doubt in his mind that these men were back-up sacrifices if anything happened to their primary ones- that also meant there were six more people trapped as the Master Sergeant had been.

He plotted a course to the clearing and set the rotorcraft to autopilot. He knew he should stay in contact with the craft, and would, once he'd warned the others.

They were running out of time

-:-

When Pooch started to show signs of coming around Clay tried to stand, only to learn that Master Sergeant Kaye was quite adept at keeping her seated patients seated.

"Clay," she began in a very even tone. "You may be a Colonel. You may outrank me on the battlefield, but unless we are under immediate threat... you are to sit right here until I tell you you can move, understood?"

Clay looked at the medic, and was about to object when a slight rumble in his chest did the rest of her arguing for her.

Betrayed by his own body, he settled back down.

"Thank you," she said as the fight went out of him and she continued dress his wound and apply the chest seal. Once the seal was applied and fixed in place she nodded.

"Now, you can sit, right here until we're ready to evac. If, on the off chance, someone comes in shooting at us, you can do whichever you prefer... duck for cover or return fire but please refrain from being shot again..."

He nodded towards Pooch. "I have to find out what he has to report."

"And I need to monitor your wound and make sure this doesn't get any worse, and it's a lot easier to do if you're where I can find you and don't have to try and carry you anywhere."

When he started to object, she shook her head. "Colonel, I've been dead once already today... not really interested in trying that again."

He turned, realizing she wasn't just mother-henning him or being over protective, his injury was serious and she wasn't really in any condition to go traipsing after him to help him if the seal didn't hold or he went into tension pneumothorax.

Medic couldn't do their job if they were dead. He could respect that.

He nodded and waited for Pooch to report.

-:-

Roque watched as Pooch returned from the controls of the rotorcraft and smiled. He always preferred to see the rigger's aura on the return trip, as the deep shades of blue returned to the normal vibrant shades of blue that he usually associated with the man.

The first thing he noticed was that the orange flares were back. Without a word from the rigger, he knew Pooch had seen the captives again, and he was not pleased.

He turned when he noticed the exchange between Casey and Clay. He nodded approvingly. If the medic couldn't keep Clay in line, at least his injures would make him think before reacting.

He turned to Pooch and waited for him to speak.

-:-

Cougar did not particularly like the floating hospital where he and Jensen had been stuck for the past 24 hours. It was fine while they were healing and it felt good to be rid of the suit, but this was not where they belonged. They belonged with the others. Not sitting here waiting for the doctors to figure out that whatever they were waiting for wasn't going to happen compliments of a pair of magical types.

He realized some of the tension came from the fact that in his experience there was always the possibility of reassignment. He had no doubt that Clay and the others would come back. Their general condition, on the other hand, that was another matter entirely.

Then there was fact that he had four relative strangers 'looking out for him.' He was not used to being the one watched over, protected- that was his job and it made him feel... itchy.

"Cougs, man, relax will you?" Jensen called from the next bed.

Cougar started to reply, point out to Jensen that he was relaxed, but then he shook his head. He wasn't relaxed- he felt... like something was about to happen and there was nothing he could do about it.

'Guys,' he heard Jensen's friend on the secure channel... again. 'We've got trouble.'

'More of the suit's guys?' Jensen asked sitting up.

'No. Something's coming for the ship. Two minutes ago Whisper, Bear and a mage three beds down sat bolt upright and collapsed, either they've all been attacked, or they're already engaged.'

Cougar slipped out of bed and stood next to Jensen. "How does your friend have our encrypted, private frequency?"

Jensen shrugged. "She broke it."

"She... broke 'it'... she broke your encryption... "

"Well.. it took her twenty seven minutes and she had help..." Jensen objected.

"She had... help?"

"Yeah... Duck cheats... she and Tracker split the processing... I think he got the freq and she did the decryption. Maybe the other way around. It took me thirty to break theirs- but that was just me working the problem."

Cougar shook his head. "And you haven't changed the encryption yet?"

"Well... in case they needed to talk to us privately."

Cougar rolled his eyes, but the truth of the matter was, something was coming and they were going to need to be able to co-ordinate.

It didn't mean he had to like it.


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to Cougar's Catnip for proofing the story.
> 
> Interesting fact, when you leave a story alone for a while-- you forget it enough that going through it is like discovering an old friend, and you separate yourself more from your creation and see it as its own thing, not what you originally intended.
> 
> During the review process I found a time loop and a character that vanished mid-story... so... fixing that. In the mean time: Enjoy!
> 
> Standard Disclaimer Still in Effect: I don't own them or pretend to. The Losers belong to WB, Dark Horse, Diggle. Shadowrun belongs to Catalyst Games, or at least did the last time I checked. I just thought it would be fun... and then they took over.

 

**CHAPTER TWENTY THREE**

Pooch's first reaction was to take a look at his leg. He was pleased to see that it had been cleaned and dressed, even more pleased that he'd missed what would have been a very unpleasant experience.

"Rotocraft is on its way, but we're going to have to make a stop on the way out," he announced without any preamble.

"We are?" Clay asked in mock disbelief. He wasn't used to his men dictating what the team needed to do, but he was used to his men speaking their mind and giving him intel as it was learned rather than waiting for a briefing or worse for him to ask.

"Yes sir," Pooch answered. "Found the original two prisoners we noted... they've got five companions now... being held in a cave."

"Seven," Roque repeated as he gave a disgusted look towards the clearing where Casey had been tied up. "They're keeping reserves just in case."

Clay nodded. "We'll get them..."

"What are you thinking Clay?" Roque asked.

"I'm thinking we hike away from here while our would be attackers are distracted."

"And how are they going to be distracted Clay?" Roque asked sounding a little more worried.

"First off... we have two drones on the inside of that mine field... "

Pooch looked at him for a moment. "Oh, okay... let's blow up Pooch's best bomb bots as a distraction.. it's cool. But you're going to have to be the one to requisition replacement drones. There is no way the Supply Sergeant is going to let me have anything more complicated than an RC car after today's crash count.

"I'll take care of it. You just make sure they're ready to add a little confusion when we need it."

"Oh... they'll be ready," Pooch assured him.

Casey looked at them all and shook her head. "Uhm... excuse me... not really tactics woman here but... gunshot to the legs," she began pointing at Pooch, then pointed to Clay, Roque and herself in turn as she continued to list their injures. "Sucking chest wound... Ribs in need of taping and just came back from the dead here. This strike anyone else as the start to something really bad?"

"It's either that or have our only means of evac shot down before we can get to it," Clay answered evenly. His expression simply saying 'it was what it is, and what it is sucks, but it is our best option.'

 

Jensen sighed. He understood Cougar's reasoning- knew he was letting people who were relative strangers to him in on very personal information, but he also knew Cougar had to have seen the usefulness.

They were both alive and functioning far better than they had a right to at this point and that was well worth Cougar being more than a little antsy.

He was about to say something when another voice broken in over the main channel. At least the stranger hadn't bothered trying to use the encrypted line but that didn't necessarily mean anything.

'Well... I have to admit you both did surprisingly well for yourselves. I should have stayed to oversee your capture. My mistake. It won't happen again.'

'There's not going to be a next time,' Jensen promised him.

'Oh ... well... no, actually there won't really be a next time. I have someone to replace you and that just leaves ringing the dinner bell. You really should have taken me up on my offer... '

Jensen listened, waiting for any more but there was nothing.

He looked over at Cougar, noticing how tense he was and shook his head. He had tried to trace the signal but it was bouncing all over the ship.

He activated his commlink and switched to Duck's channel, 'did you get that?'

'Megalomaniac taunting... mustache in need of twirling?'

'Yeah... that'd be the one.'

'Couldn't find anything... working on voice recognition now- Tracker's scanning frequencies for the voice and running background comparisons...Get your team on our freq.'

Jensen let his breath out and nodded to Cougar. "Cougs, I may have let them keep our freq, but they also let me keep theirs. Switching you to their channel now..."

He quickly reprogrammed Cougar's comm unit and downloaded the encryption algorithm so he could understand their more secure comms as well.

'Back,' he told them.

There was a pause as Duck and Tracker discussed something.

'Can you two come over here,' Duck asked finally.

'Why?'

''Cause this requires some face to face planning and Tracker's still not allowed out of bed.

Jensen looked at Cougar who simply shrugged as if to say 'they're your friends.'

 

Roque watched as Casey adapted to Clay's plan. It was a Loser's play if ever there was one. Rule number one of Special Operations: if your enemy expects you to be somewhere, be anywhere else.

Clay was good at that play, as was Pooch. Roque had never been fond of it himself. He tended to believe that if your enemy expected you to be somewhere, it was only polite to be there waiting to direct them straight to hell.

Each strategy had its merits and in this case with one non combatant and three rather seriously fragged-up soldiers, Clay's methodology was the sounder choice.

Before they'd headed out Casey had made sure that Roque's ribs had been taped, Pooch's wounds were redressed in a more supportive manner and everyone knew what to watch for when it came to pnuemothorax, tension pnuemothorax and about 25 other signs of shock, blood loss and pretty much anything that they had already been trained to look for and treat.

Besides, it gave her something to do other than worry about the shape she was in, and the actual odds they were facing.

He noticed that when she found walking sticks for each of them, she had taken them from the ground. She had found newly fallen branches that seemed the right size and shape for the tasks at hand.

When they started their hike, the woods seemed to close in around them, hiding their motion from prying eyes. It was as if the forest had decided to work with them for a change.

 

The first thing Cougar noticed was the concern on Duck's face as she checked on the Mage 'Whisper' and the Shaman who had introduced himself as Daniel TwoBears. It was obvious that she cared about them as more than just friends, and that made sense: they were teammates.

Something in the way she hovered over TwoBears though, told him that he was something... someone far more important to her than even a teammate. He nodded and took up a position standing at the foot of the other decker's bed. Jensen sat on the bed next to him, his feet dangling over the side.

To his chagrin, Jensen unwrapped a tootsie pop and began sucking on it.

When Duck had finished she went and sat on her teammate's bed and studied them for a minute.

"Okay Jay, spill. What did Machiavelli mean by 'overseeing your capture?" The woman asked.

"Max," Cougar corrected her. "He called himself Max."

He nodded towards Jensen when she looked at him questioningly. "I had been shot... he was talking to Jensen."

Jensen sagged slightly. "They shot Cougs to slow me down... make me stay where I was so they could round us up... round me up. Not sure what the plan was after that... Cougar didn't like the arrangement and told them as much."

Cougar smiled when Jensen's friends looked at him and Tracker simply shrugged. "I can see that."

 

Clay stood watch as Pooch made a sweep of the area, checking with both his bomb rollers and drone 1313, their rear guard.

"They're closing in on our old location, as expected," he confirmed.

Clay nodded and turned towards Roque and gave him a slight nod. Roque let his consciousness shift slightly as he took in his surroundings and noticed one of the elementals had followed them. He paused and nodded.

' _If any of the strangers come near us, I need you to let us know_.'

' _Of course,_ ' the elemental said, but even as it spoke he could tell it was looking at the Master Sergeant.

' _She is with us,_ ' he warned.

' _That is good,_ ' was all the elemental said.

Roque shrugged.

"They aren't following us, but I wouldn't put it past them to have some people spread out to catch us in case we slip through."

Without thinking they had switched back to not using the comms. They were close enough to each other and it left less for the enemy to track them by.

"Where do we go from here?"

Clay looked around and nodded towards the Northwest. "That way should be as good a direction as any."

Roque nodded. "I'll scout ahead."

 

Cougar watched as the two deckers spoke to each other, recognizing the shorthand language of long-term friends. It lacked the tenderness Duck had displayed towards TwoBears, but he could sense a genuine concern between them.

He looked at Jensen as he sucked on his lollipop and watched the two of them.

"I think it's a safe bet to say that any attempt to communicate with the outside world will be either jammed or met with some serious trouble," Tracker stated.

"They've already engaged our magical forces and they're either in combat or locked inside," Duck added.

"We're going to have to do what we do best... "

"I can probably get communications out to the rest of our team," Jensen suggested.

Cougar fought not to smile when Duck teasingly turned towards Jensen and said "The grown-ups are talking dear..."

It wasn't so much what she said, or even the answering gleam in Jensen's eye that amused him, but the 'not again' eye roll from Tracker.

No, Tracker and Duck were long term friends, used to working together and being there for each other. Duck and Jensen on the other hand were a cross between mentor and student, and two children used to getting the other into trouble.

As he reflected on this the three deckers got back down to business.

"We're going to have to be careful about this," Duck added.

"Well, that rules you out," Jensen objected, pointing his lollipop at her.

Duck's expression was dour to say the least, but she continued with the matter at hand. "Odds are they've done everything they can think of to a) keep the ship here b) keep us isolated, c) keep us from getting a message out, and more likely than not keep messages from coming in."

"Which means we have to think like us," Jensen stated.

"No," Tracker said shaking his head.

"We need to think like him," Duck finished nodding towards Tracker.

"And unfortunately," Tracker added looking directly at Cougar. "You're going to have to monitor the three of us."

"It is what I do," Cougar answered. It was something he knew and was comfortable doing- it was his job and he was happiest when he was doing his job.

 

As they moved through the jungle Clay grew more and more concerned as the forest seemed to close in around them. When he stopped, Casey put her hand gently on his arm.

"Are you having trouble breathing?" she asked worriedly.

"No... not really..." He paused seeing her expression. "I'll be all right. You did a good job of treating me and once Roque regains some strength he can patch me up some more."

Casey nodded, but Clay could see she was still worried.

"Casey, this is what we do. We've gotten out of worse, we'll get out of this..."

"But..."

"There are no 'buts' that are acceptable. We will get out of this, we will survive and we will stop this insanity... just not necessarily in that order..."

To his relief Casey shook her head and chuckled. "As long as all four of us do all of the above... I'm game."

He smiled. Suddenly the Jungle didn't seem so oppressive


	24. Chapter 24

 

"So, Maxiaveli knows I'm here with Cougar and he knows I'm not going to take this lying down. He'll be waiting for me to do something heroically stupid in an effort to stop him."

Duck smiled at Jensen. "It's what I'd do."

"He probably knows there are other deckers on board, military deckers in general, and I think after the suit, its safe to say, he knows you and Tracker are here."

"Which is why we play this smart, ie not like either of the two of you would in a given situation," Tracker warned.

Duck sighed. "Fine, no hitting the traps just to see how they work... I got it."

"There's no way he's going to be ready for a team of deckers, I could run interference let the two of you do your thing," Jensen offered.

He could barely keep up with the conversation that followed as Duck and Tracker began talking in their own special shorthand, but he caught enough of it to immediately start shaking his head. "No! I'd trip the two of you up:I'm not really a team player."

Cougar started to object, to point out that Jensen was very much a team player which only made Jensen more hyperactive. "No, Cougs, it's not the same. Sure I fight with the team, sure I work with you guys- but when I'm in the Matrix it's just me against whoever's out there. What they're suggesting is..."

"Exactly the same thing," Duck interrupted him.

"We go in as a unit," Tracker added. "We have someone running point and someone standing guard at all times. Just like we would if we were out in the field."

"As above, so below," Duck finished with a shrug.

Jensen looked at them. Duck had definitely mellowed in the years since he'd last seen her- mellowed and gotten all philosophical on him.

"Somehow, I don't think Whisper would approve of you applying the hermetic axioms to decking."

Duck shrugged. "Lucky for me he's in no position to argue."

Jensen shook his head, looking at the two 'old-timers', they were the same as he remembered them... just sneakier. "All right, then. How do we do this?"

Duck thought for a moment, and tilted her head slightly as she looked at Tracker. When the elf nodded, she focused on Jensen. "Jensen, I want you on my deck. Make whatever mods you need to operate."

"What?"

"It's already set up for working with Tracker. I've got my combat deck wired into my body armor: that gives us three machines already prepped for tag team play."

Jensen shook his head. "We're going in Linked?" He asked in disbelief. "No! I will trip the two of you up so bad..."

"Jay," Duck began, her eyes meeting his. "You know why we hit it off so well at that conference?"

"Because... you like confusing people?" Jensen offered unsure where Duck was heading.

"Because twenty years ago, I was you. We think alike: we work alike. You and I will do fine and Tracker's used to working with me. He's just going to have to work with two of me."

Jensen tried to find an argument he could use against Duck, but he realized what she was getting at, and she was right. She was a mentor because she was an older, more experienced version of him.

Judging by the way Tracker had bowed his head and placed his hand so it stretched to either temple he had realized it too.

Jensen shrugged and looked at Cougar. "So, looks like you get the boring part: watching over the three of us."

"And a mage and a shaman," Duck added.

"Not to mention the rest of the ship," Tracker piped in, still shaking his head.

"You up to it?" Jensen asked.

Cougar gave him a raised eyebrow as if to say 'And you're afraid you can't work with these two?'

Jensen shrugged: at least they had a chance.

 

Roque froze as he neared the top of the rise and sensed the spirits surrounding him. He had hoped to have more of his strength back, but one did not choose when they dealt with the spirits. The spirits were the ones who decided on the time and place of the meeting. It was up to the mage to accept it for what it was.

He looked around and finally seeing a group of three waiting for him, he nodded to them. "Thank you for allowing us to do our duty."

_'The one you fought was not of our world.'_

"No, but he was brought to our world by those who wish to bring more into this world- things that should not be brought."

 _'We sense no evil in the magics of which you speak_.'

"You sense no evil?" Roque asked in disbelief. "Three times seven living sacrifices and you sense no evil?"

_'Magic is neither good, nor is it evil. Magic simply is.'_

"This is no simple magic of which we speak. The amount of power invoked- the sheer number of lives that will be destroyed by the ritual alone. No, magic may not be evil, but this magic, the intentions behind it are very evil and it will affect you and those you protect."

_'And how do you know of these intentions of which you speak?'_

"One of the first to be sacrificed, one bound to the web of this spell has told me."

_'It is a coatl. Coatls lie.'_

"A dead Coatl? What does a dead Coatl have to gain by lying? Feel the magic. Feel the intentions behind it: look at the innocents they seek to sacrifice. Seek the reason for the spell- make your own decisions."

Roque was getting tired of the Spirit's circular logic, and was even more annoyed that he knew the term thanks to his association with Jensen.

_'There were three of you before: now there are four.'_

"We freed one of the ones who was to be sacrificed."

_'If you wish the spell to fail, you should have left her where she was...'_

"I want the spell to fail, but I will not sacrifice innocents to achieve that goal. That is how I differ from those responsible."

_'Who defines innocent? Perhaps the one you fight sees her as the threat and feels they are merely balancing the ledgers.'_

"I am a warrior and one of the first things we learn is- you do not sacrifice the medic. Will you look or are your minds made up?"

_'We shall decide.'_

Roque rolled his eyes. Sometimes spirits were worse than Clay once he'd made up his mind.

 

Cougar watched as Jensen and Duck worked out the details of him using her deck. He was beginning to realize it was a lot less like borrowing someone else's fire arm and a lot more like borrowing their significant other. He was fairly certain he would never understand the intricacies of this aspect of a decker's job .

As they worked he turned first towards the mages, then to Tracker. He could see the haggard look in the man's eyes and nodded towards him.

"Will you be up to this?"

Tracker smiled. "The hurt part or the dealing with two juvenile delinquent geniuses with a penchant for trouble?"

Cougar smiled and gave a slight chuckle at his response. To an elf, they were probably all a bit juvenile. "All of the above."

Tracker nodded. "I'd ask if you know how it is, but..." He gestured towards Jensen and shrugged, realizing that Cougar had every idea what it was like.

"The key is to not let him get bored."

Tracker shook his head. "Where we're going, that's not going to be a problem."

"Then all should be well."

"Should be and what is..." Tracker shook his head. "Two very different things. But we'll make it what it needs to be."

"Du-ck..."

Cougar turned as he heard Jensen call to Duck, somehow turning her name into a two syllable name.

"What's with the shiny button that says 'do not press?'"

Duck smiled. "Nothing."

"Duck..."

"Just... don't press it, unless you're told to," Tracker said massaging his temples. "You two ready to go?"

"Just need to work out who gets the window seat," Duck answered as she finished winding up the last bit of cable and donning the last bit of her body armor over her hospital gown.

"Cougs, hold onto your hat, things are about to get interesting," Jensen warned.

"You mean... they weren't" Cougar asked, worried slightly at the smile that settled onto Jensen's face. He began to wonder if the mages had the right idea.

 

Pooch watched as Casey checked the bandage on his leg and made sure that the trek hadn't done any more damage.

"Normally," she told him. "I'd tell you to stay off it and keep it elevated."

Pooch smiled and shook his head. "In case you haven't figured out by now, 'Normal' and 'Losers' only have a passing acquaintance."

When she chuckled he decided it was a nice sound and maybe, just maybe, Clay had expressed an interest in a woman who wouldn't get them all killed.

"Yeah well," she confided. "I think from now on, I'm going to ask a man's unit name before I let him on my chopper."

Pooch laughed, "well, I hate to tell you this, but giving up your seat so our tech's head didn't explode... that kinda makes you one of us."

"Thank you... I think."

Pooch nodded and started to stand when he heard someone coming through the woods. He trained his pistol on the area, only relaxing when he saw it was Roque.

"Report?" Clay asked.

"There's a clearing, 'bout a click from here. Pooch should be able to land the craft there... take us about a half an hour at our current rate."

Clay nodded. "Do it. The sooner we get out of here the better."

 

Cougar watched Jensen as he finished the last of his preps. He wanted to believe they were blowing things out of proportion but the hairs on the back of his neck had risen and he had learned a long time ago to trust his instincts, and those of his friends.

It was strange enough seeing Tracker and Jensen lying in beds dressed in their hospital gowns, ready to jack themselves into the matrix: but Duck was something else entirely. He watched as she lowered herself to the floor between them, her body armor all but obscuring her hospital Johnny.

Jensen offered her space on his borrowed bed but she declined warning him that she tended to kick in her 'sleep.' They were also limited by the cables that connected the three decks together. It was simple logistics: she was the smallest and least injured and the floor worked perfectly.

Jensen had been ready to object until Tracker just gave him a knowing look and shook his head. Arguing was only going to waste time.

After one final check Jensen smiled at Cougar. "Wish us luck," he said.

Cougar watched as Jensen's usually expressive face went slack as he and the others activated their decks.

 

_They were freefalling: three minds, one shared persona for now-a simple package traveling through the system: supply orders, nothing special._

_Jensen was so not used to sharing controls with anyone, let alone some kill joy Navy Guy..._

_'Okay, okay, geeze, sorry I thought that,' Jensen muttered as the 'kill joy navy guy' slapped the back of his persona's head with what looked like a dead fish._

_'We're a team here. Unless we break apart everything we see, everything we think, the others know.'_

_'What and you couldn't have warned me about this before we started?'_

_'Think of it as being stuck in the front seat of a pickup truck with your dad driving.'_

_Jensen wasn't sure who had 'spoken', and he was beginning to understand what they meant. There was no 'me' no 'you' just... 'us.'_

_'Trust me on this, you do not want my dad driving... and you definitely don't want me thinking about my dad driving...'_

_'Will you two...'_

_Whatever Tracker, at least Jensen assumed it was Tracker, was going to say was cut off as all three of them got their first view of where the data stream was heading._

_'Giant black hole with data shredder," Jensen said as he tried to analyze it. "Giant black hole with data shredder!'_

_'Looks like,' Tracker replied seemingly un-phased. "Duck?"_

_Jensen was starting to feel a little nervous by the time Duck finally answered. 'If you can compress us, slip out of the outgoing datastream... I can get us redirected to a local server with an addressing conflict.'_

_'Do we have one?'_

_'Working on it now...'_

_Jensen looked and saw the image of Duck turn translucent as Tracker began compressing their persona into something even less pleasant to be in._

_'Shit,' he thought to himself only it wasn't just to himself since he and Tracker were sharing the same space._

_He had just realized that attacking the mages was easy: simply draw them into combat. That would have had to have happened about the same time they'd taken over the ship's computer systems, and they'd want to isolate any threats they could find._

_'You're right we need to get to records,' he sensed Tracker's agreement as the decker nodded. Jensen was beginning to understand the usefulness of thought sharing, but he wasn't sure it gave them enough of an advantage or not._

_'What about Duck?' He asked worriedly._

_'She'll adapt if she isn't there already.'_

_'Double decking?'_

_'Yeah, I'll tell you about it sometime. Question is how are you adapting?'_

_'Well,' Jensen admitted. 'I usually just talk to myself and the programs so that's normal, just... not so much on getting answered or smacked upside the head.'_

_'You'll get used to it.'_

_'I hope so, 'cause to be honest, right now it's feeling more than a little schizophrenic.'_


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new method of editing/reviewing is now in place. I have learned the joys of having the story read to me by machine. It's helped me not only notice errors, but a few plot holes that have to be plugged as well. This of course, has caused a slight delay as I work on straightening things out.
> 
> Thanks once again to Cougar's Catnip for proof reading!
> 
> Standard disclaimer is still on place as we begin:

 

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

_Duck shifted her consciousness to the virtual machine she kept running on her deck. The machine was configured for maintenance work on both her deck, and the accounts she managed. By adding the ship's node to the accounts list, she could easily introduce the 'network trouble' they needed._

_She knew that splitting her mind between two systems was dangerous, but when her current roll in one system was 'passenger' it made playing 'system gremlin' a lot easier._

_She quickly set up a few network issues and prepped the 'data packet' shell to look more like a maintenance bot, when the time came, if the guards weren't watching too closely, Tracker would be able to change places, shifting the 'bot' back to data packet' and making their 'packet' take the bot's place. It would take precision timing to pull the switch off-but that was where Tracker shined. When it came to not being seen or noticed, Tracker was simply the best._

_She was about to slip back into the main routine when she realized someone was accessing personnel files and froze. If they knew who they were up against and where their meat was,their mission would end before it even got started._

_She quickly sent the maintenance bot to the main node for Tracker, while she used the maintenance routine to infiltrate records where she began to change as many of the patient's IDs as she could. The hard part was going to be Jensen and Alvarez: their injuries were unique and identifiable._

_With that in mind, she set to work._

 

Cougar looked up startled when he heard a whistle from the deck Jensen was using. He moved over, carefully inspecting the equipment. He was used to the neat lines of Jensen's deck, not the monstrosity he was now hooked into. It looked more like a cobbled together piece of modern art than a deck.

As he tried to identify the bits and pieces, something flashed next to Jensen's left hand. It took him a moment to realize that it was a small film that, combined with the dark blanket behind it, served as a monitor of sorts.

On the screen he read, "You are Sergeant Green of Company B. You are here with shrapnel damage to your lower extremities. Sorry best I could do..."

He scrolled down on the makeshift screen.

"Your friend is Corporal James. He took some shrapnel to the head when trying to defuse the claymore you were standing on. T and I are the Johnson twins from DeeCee. Cover us (literally) they are on the ship. Be careful - D"

It took Cougar a moment or two to decipher what he'd read, then he grabbed some sheets and blankets and covered Tracker and Jensen. He wasn't sure what to do with Duck, so he placed a chair in front of her and sat down.

Now all he could do was watch and wait... and pray.

 

Over the next twenty minutes, the members of the remaining squad continued to draw dangerously close to the Losers. Roque did his best to keep the team away from the searching soldiers and equipment while leaving false trails, but there were several times when he was forced to signal a halt. Each time the team would dig in and prepare for the worst.

The first time, a sound drew the searchers away from their quarry and the second Roque could sense the opposing team's mage searching for them magically and felt him pass right by them as if his concentration slipped at a key moment when he would have found them.

He wasn't sure quite why the mage couldn't find them, other than the thick undergrowth in which they had hidden make them harder to spot on the astral. Still, he was fairly certain that the mage should have seen them, yet somehow hadn't.

He was beginning to suspect a trap when he noticed that the underbrush and weeds seemed to be thickest around Casey. He tilted his head slightly and let his awareness shift to the astral and smiled as the words of the woods spirits replayed in his mind.

If he wanted to ruin the spell, he would have left her there. He would never do that- not to an innocent, definitely not to a medic and especially not to the medic who was there because she'd protected a member of his team, but now his curiosity was piqued.

She had shown no signs of affinity to the woods when they first arrived, and it wasn't until he'd been forced to kill her that this odd symbiotic relationship had manifest. He knew that near death experiences could have a profound effect on people but this was something more, something else. This was something awakening inside her, something that had been there all along and everyone had missed it: until his actions had triggered it.

"Are you all right, Captain?"

Roque shook his head as if to clear it. He'd been so lost in thought he'd missed Casey approaching him. He smiled at her and after a moment reached into his boot and pulled out her sgain dubh and handed it to her.

"You know... a brown sgain dubh is kinda wrong... wouldn't it be a sgain don?" He asked knowing that the literal translation of sgain dubh meant 'black knife' in Gaelic.

Casey smiled and laughed, and on the edge of the astral he could see the woods respond, reflecting her mood.

 

_'Either close your eyes or go code something,' Tracker grumbled as their 'data packet' persona got closer and closer to the shredder and Jensen began to grow more and more antsy._

_'Sorry. I'd have bolted by now.'_

_'I know, we get too close, bail.'_

_Jensen turned his eyes widening when he caught the thought Tracker had tried to keep from him. While Duck was operating a different system, she couldn't pull the plug for herself to get out of this run. She was, for all intents and purposes locked into the persona until she returned._

_'You've got to be kidding me!'_

_'It's not like it will rip her apart...," Tracker told him, but Jensen caught a hint of what Tracker was thinking and while it wasn't exactly like being hit by IC head on, it would be close enough._

_'No,' Jesen growled. "We need something that doesn't involve scrambled Duck brains.'_

_'It won't come to that,' Tracker told him calmly._

_'Then what are you waiting for?'_

_'The right time.'_

_'The right time? The right time is before we get sliced, diced and dumped with a hangover for our trouble... if we're lucky... you see those 'guard routines'?'_

_'The persona's in hiding? Yeah. They're part of why Duck's out right now: they've got people on board in our system.'_

_'And what is she doing about it? And how come you can read my thoughts but I can't read yours?'_

_'Practice. As for Duck she's...' Tracker was interrupted by Duck's persona reviving._

_'Sorry. Had to detour to records,' she told them. 'Did I miss anything?'_

_'Just the three Naval Deckers trying to slip through the system like us... they didn't get far,' Tracker informed her._

_'Someone did a trace and burn on them,' Jensen elaborated. As much as he hated to admit it, by not bolting they hadn't been captured, but they were running out of time._

_'What have you got?' Tracker interrupted._

_'Maintenance routine... invalid address on several requests... coming to pick them up and take them back to the originating terminal,' she explained. 'All nicely prepped for a switch.'_

_'And if the sentries open fire on the maintenance droid?' Jensen asked worriedly_

_'Then we break apart,' Tracker explained. 'Duck and I start world war three, you launch your utilities and go. We keep them busy and you do what you do.'_

_'Why me?'_

_'You're the comms man... we're pure old school matrix runners. If you can get outside the 'jam' you can broadcast our situation. Our specialty is dealing with the issue here, in the ship's systems,' Tracker explained._

_'And with us double teaming them,' Duck added. 'They'll be too busy to look for you...but it might not come to that.'_

_Duck nodded towards the maintenance bot as it began gathering data packets from the pipeline. Three deckers watched tensely as the sentries took notice._

_It was going to be close._

 

They had almost reached the clearing when Casey all but dropped to her knees. Clay was the first by her side and he grew worried when she flinched away from him. Roque and Pooch exchanged looks as they both took up defensive positions.

"Casey, what is it?"

The medic shook her head, but when she turned to face him he could see the tears and near panic in her eyes. "Casey?"

He looked towards his men in frustration as he tried to get through to the Master Sergeant.

 

Roque gave Pooch a quick nod as he sank to his knees in front of the medic and reached out towards her on the astral level. The first thing he noticed was the ruddy brown of sheer terror that was overpowering everything else.

_'Casey,' he called, and when that failed to reacher her, he demanded, 'tell me what is wrong."_

He watched his own concern growing, until she finally managed to pull herself out of whatever had taken over her mind.

 _'C-can't you..._ ' She began as a thought, then pulled away, back into the physical world.

 

Clay watched anxiously as Roque knelt in front of Casey and then drifted into some sort of trance leaving him to support both the Master Sergeant and his best friend. He slipped his pistol out of its holster and waited. If he were a betting man, and he was, this was where the attack would come, if it hadn't already begun.

He was used to waiting, watching over his team as they each did their duties. He had just started to adapt to the situation when it changed yet again.

Casey twitched, then began flailing for a moment, before looking at Roque, her eyes wide open.

"Can't you hear it? Listen. That hum. They've been here: the tower; the minefield, the charges, all of it."

Roque reached out and put a comforting hand on her shoulder as he met his commander's eyes, his expression grim.

After a moment Clay nodded. "Yeah. I can hear it."

 

The forest seemed to close in on them as Clay exchanged a worried look with Roque before making a decision. They needed to move on and Casey was in no shape.

"Stay with her," he ordered as he handed Casey off to Roque. While his second in command was better at sneaking around, he was also the only one present even vaguely trained in dealing with the traumatic experiences Casey was reliving.

Granted he usually used that training to create said experiences for others, but he was still the closest thing they had to someone capable of helping Casey right now.

Clay focused on his surroundings as he neared the clearing and paused. He looked down and noticed the disturbed leaves a few feet in front of him. He was beginning to think Roque's 'Hell blast' had been too good for these fraggers.

Looking through the trees he saw a setup similar to where they'd found Casey, although here the prisoner seemed completely satisfied with sitting there waiting for help to come. His eyes narrowed as he focused on the captive.

'Roque, Casey was right,' He reported over the commlink. "Same setup as before. Mine field seems to extend into the woods this time. Captive seems... complacent. Going to need your friends.'

There was the briefest of pauses before Roque answered. 'Clay, I don't think bringing Casey any closer's going to be a good idea.'

'No choice. We've already spread ourselves too thin. We need to regroup and we need to get out of here while we can. Won't do anyone any good if we end up on the menu.'

'Clay, I just gave her her sgain dubh back... if she uses it on you, it's not my fault.'

Clay chuckled. 'Just get everyone up here in one piece. We've got some planning to do.'

 

Roque took one look at the woman trembling in his arms and shook his head. He didn't want to knock her out, but he didn't want to force her to relive her nightmare either-even if it meant them getting out sooner rather than later.

He knew Clay was right, they had to move but he also knew there were limits to what he could ask of people. He looked down at Casey, surprised to find her studying him.

"There's something you don't want to do..." she stated evenly. "And judging by the way you're not looking at me... it's something I'm not going to like."

He smiled. "You sure you're not a mage," he asked teasingly.

"I'm a medic. Sometimes the two are the same," she explained. "We read people-see what they're not saying."

He paused then nodded. "We need to move forward."

She looked at him, and then in the direction of the sound. "I- I don't think I can get back on that particular horse..."

"You aren't alone," Pooch told her moving closer offering her a hand up. "You've got us."

Roque smiled as Pooch simply did what he always did-made the unbearable something you just did 'cause there were no other options.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When you're in too deep, there's only one way to go - If you're a Loser - it's deeper in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N Nothing like writing a saga - posting half of it while editing the rest and watching it all fall apart when you have not one, but two catastrophic hardware failures - the good news: I had just backed up before the crash - the bad news - the backup software didn't recognize my writing files (Scrivener) as documents that need to be backed up.
> 
> The long/short of it... we're back on line - I've lost my edits so I'm re-proofing now and I have some clean-up to do. But... we're back on board.
> 
> Standard Disclaimers apply.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

As one the three deckers held their breath. Jensen wasn't sure if it was a joint experience or just the reaction they were all having. Either way, all three of them were totally focused on the scene before them. There were so many places this could go wrong, and so many ways it could break, that none of them wanted to miss any of the warning signs.

As the bot picked up its second packet Jensen began chanting 'this is not the droid you're looking for...' much to Tracker's chagrin.

Duck's attention was focused on the sentries and the shredder and as the bot moved closer the guard routines moved in.

Jensen shifted ready to move but waiting for Tracker's cue. As Duck had pointed out, Tracker was the best at not being seen and part of that was the fact that he knew when to move and when to remain perfectly still.

The tension was almost palpable as the guard routines descend on the hapless bot. Tracker didn't even bother telling them to wait for it; he knew they all were waiting for his signal.

As they moved in and assaulted the bot, the guards shifted into a hydra, a dragon and a giant pit bull , Tracker nodded: it was time to go.

'Jay,' he thought. 'Hit the button.'

#

Cougar watched tensely as Tracker's heart rate monitor slowed to a steady pace and Jensen's hand reached for the button Duck had told him not to press. Behind him Duck began to kick before calming down again.

He started to move forward, but suddenly thought better of it, choosing rather to pick up a book and start 'reading' to his unconscious friends.

He had just started the second paragraph when three men dressed as Masters-At-Arms moved in on the curtained off area he and Jensen shared. Finding it empty they began a search of the ward. When they began checking the electronic charts at the foot of each bed, he smiled. That was what Duck had warned him about.

When they made it to Tracker and the others the lead man looked at him. "Soldier, identify yourself."

Cougar nodded slowly, the motions of an injured man recovering from his alleged shrapnel wounds. "Sir, Sergeant Green, Company B, sir, this here's my friend Corporal James... is everything all right?"

When they muttered something and kept going, he picked up where he left off on the book, all the while watching the men as they searched for him and Jensen.

That had been too close and he knew they'd be back, and next time they would be more thorough in their searching and they were bound to notice that the wires didn't connect the patients to the medical monitors, but rather to each other.

#

Clay waited until the others had joined him. He smiled at the way Roque and Pooch flanked Casey, enveloping her in a protective 'pocket'. He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile then turned back towards the clearing, focusing on the prisoner there.

"Roque... I need you to take a look around... something doesn't feel right..."

He nodded when Roque gave him a serious look and quickly took the mage's place next to Casey, allowing Roque to focus on the matter at hand. He knew all too well that his 'feelings' were no match for Roque's vision.

#

As always, Roque gauged his surroundings using his team as a baseline. He wasn't surprised that Pooch's aura had again picked up the orange tinges of anger and vengeance. He thought for a moment and realized that Pooch was reacting to Casey's current state.

He wasn't entirely surprised when he noticed Clay's aura held not only the vengeful oranges but a bluish green he'd learned to associate with Clay about to get himself into trouble, usually with a woman.

As he turned his attention to Casey, Roque froze. He watched as her aura shifted, reflecting a combination of the people around her and the shades of the jungle itself.

'Not awakened my hoop,' he thought to himself. Someone had really failed when they were testing out recruits. It was something for him to worry about later, but for now he would simply watch. What was happening was in no way a threat to him or his team. He was beginning to think that if it had been anything, it had been helping them.

As he tuned out the others as 'background noise,' he focused on the clearing. His attention drawn to the prisoner in the middle.

The man showed no sign of having been punished by the equipment. Either the man had done nothing but follow his captor's instructions or it was a trap. He wasn't sure which. There was no sign of deceit in the man's bearing but something was very wrong.

#

Shaking his head, he refocused on Clay. "Something is definitely going on."

'Man hasn't done a damn thing in there and that just doesn't sit right,' he added over the secure channel and he studied Casey.

He smiled slightly when he noticed the woman had armed herself and was ready to use the pistol. If anyone would have just sat there in the center of the clearing doing nothing to free themselves, it would have been the medic, not a soldier. No, nothing was as it appeared that much was clear.

#

Jensen froze for a moment amazed by the amount of sheer chaos Duck created as the data packet cover they were using dissolved and she launched herself at the sentries. He felt his heart in his throat even though he'd seen footage of her doing this at the conference. He smiled as her sudden attack burst into a collection of cartoon weapons, puppets, retrievers, a protester, and one very serious looking cannon that was aimed at the dragon.

He knew Tracker was still there somewhere, and it took him a moment to notice the 'light' bending around the form of a wolf as it slunk to the sidelines, allowing Duck to draw all the attention and fire of the guard routines, while he began working his own special level of destruction.

The thought 'stealthy annihilation,' made him chuckle to himself as he slipped away from the fray. He knew this was what they did best and he knew that by double teaming their opposition, their chances were exponentially increased. Still, he didn't have to like leaving them behind.

He forced himself not to think about the danger they were facing or the reinforcements that were already making their way to the waiting deckers. He had his assignment and they had theirs. If he didn't work his own magic, their risk would be for nothing.

Following Tracker's lead, he shifted his image, becoming a part of the scenery. He quickly blended in and walked away. He had to get a signal out, and the only way to do that was to get outside the ship's node.

#

Cougar slouched a little more in his chair as three more Masters-at-Arms began circulating the floor. He had seen them wheel two beds out, ostensibly for further treatment but he could tell from their body language the Masters-At-Arms were rounding up the perceived threats.

He 'dozed' watching them from beneath the brim of his hat. Now was not the time to react, and sadly the soldiers they were rounding up were not the ones he was charged to protect. He knew their best hope lay firmly in the decks and minds of trio he watched over. He prayed the ones being rounded up would remain safe, that they were needed for whatever would be coming for the dinner bell. If not, they would be avenged.

To his relief they did not come for him or the others. He allowed himself a slight smile. Duck had changed as many records as she dared, leaving the mages on their ward as well as Jensen and himself.

His relief was short lived as he saw one of the Masters-at-arms tilt his head to his shoulder, listening to a transmission on the radio. The man reacted quickly, signaling the others to begin 'evacuating' the entire level.

#

Jensen smiled to himself as the guard routines swarmed the ship's main node: trying to keep the 'bad element' from getting out. If they'd only knew that some of that bad element had built the node, and the rest were currently responsible for its maintenance.

Their 'defense' seemed to include a two pronged attack– one team sent to deal with the obvious threat up close and personal while another contingent focused on building up the defenses around the outbound node.

He watched, his smile growing cold, as he realized that the 'node' had already been sealed by whoever was controlling the ship. That chill was all he needed to get moving. These people were trying to weed out and identify the people who would not only notice the situation but react to it. They wanted to identify the best of the best as a 'tasty morsel' if this Max could be believed.

Jensen growled to himself: this particular trap also meant that there was a physical presence aboard the Serenity and that meant that if any of the three of them were traced, all three of them would be caught.

Not that there was any pressure or anything.

#

While he had no idea how things were going for Jensen and the others in the matrix, Cougar knew things were building up in the physical world.

There were now eight fake, very dangerous looking, Masters-at-Arms actively moving the patients off the floor and it was only a matter of time before they reached the trio he now protected.

He knew from experience with Jensen that the deckers were in a very dangerous spot. Their minds where subject to whatever obstacles, security measures and destructive code they encountered in the virtual world of the construct matrix, and that that danger was just as real and just as tangible as it was in the real world.

Meanwhile their bodies were locked in wherever they were, helpless motionless targets in the real world. A killing shot could come from either direction and no matter how good they were inside the matrix- if someone managed to find their 'meat' them and disconnect them they were defeated. It didn't help that in sniper school they had drilled every one of his classmates until they ate and breathed the axiom "a bullet to the head is easier than pulling the plug on a decker, and just as effective."

Cougar knew he couldn't let it come down to that, and that meant either taking the fake guards out one by one or getting them all in the same place and taking them all on at the same time, but no matter how he looked at it, he was going to have to take them down.

From the way the men were moving it was looking like it was going to have to be all at once and very soon.

#

Jensen thought about the network and the computing needs of a ship at sea. The matrix connection was highly specialized and he realized that the attackers weren't familiar with the tweaks required to make a matrix connection at sea work.

Thinking about their tactics he realized their attack was designed to control the ship as a 'building at sea.'

It was a decent analogy if you didn't think about it too much, but one of the key elements of the system was the fact that this 'building' was designed to move, and move quickly. Something he knew he could use to his advantage if he could find the right system.

He tried very hard not to think about the Naval deckers who should have been maintaining the system and what the invading force had, or may have done to them. All he knew was- if they were able to, these invaders would not have the control over the system they had.

He knew Tracker, being a Navy man himself, would not be happy about this. Then again he was Army and he wasn't happy. You do not mess with the medics or the injured. It was just... wrong.

He was about to restore his standard persona over the generic camouflaged one Duck had supplied in her library, then stopped. These people knew what they were doing and this 'Max' person knew he was here. He knew Jensen and he knew he would try to do something just on general principle.

They may be fishing for threats, but they already knew he was here.

He was about to move on when he saw a construct appear in his volatile memory. He paused as he saw it pulling a persona construct out of itself: a wolf. He recognized it as Tracker's matrix persona routine. His way of representing himself in the matrix.

He started to ask, but the construct was not designed answer questions, simply to deliver the persona routine and a message.

"You be me for a while, and I'll be you..."

Jensen chuckled and switched his persona to the wolf the construct had delivered. When it remained there he looked at it.

'What, are you expecting a tip?' he asked then remembered the last bit of the message. 'and I'll be you.'

With a sigh he transferred his persona construct to Tracker's deck. Something told him the Naval Decker was not going to like his persona's image.

#

Cougar closed his eyes and set his book down as if he were tired. He watched the masters-at-arms through partially lidded eyes, getting a feel for their movements and locations.

'Eight targets, three close, two mid, one to the far left, two more returning from wheeling their most recent patient into whatever holding area they'd created,' he thought, working the situation as he divorced himself from the fact that these weren't assets he was protecting, but rather friends.

They were running out of people to move and judging by Jensen's state, neither he nor the others had been caught yet. He'd have to make sure they had their chance.

He surged forward: his movements fluid, barely needing a thought to direct them. This was the dance he had learned from a very early age, a dance that had a rhythm all its own, one that he was totally suited to, body, mind and spirit. His heart sang as those aspects of himself moved in perfect concert. The dance called to him.

Sniping was all about remaining calm, picking your target, eliminating them and moving on to the next. Close quarter combat was more about doing as much damage as possible in a short amount of time and moving on before your mark has time to react.

He moved, his body reacting to the adversaries around him, all the time tracking his opposite numbers and changing the dance as they reacted. He took it all in: action and reaction until nothing else existed.

His time with Bear had brought him back in contact with himself and his way of repaying the Shaman would be to protect his woman, his friends and to eliminate any threats that came for them.

The first three fell like wheat to the scythe. He knew the first was dead without having to check. The second was harder and it took him precious seconds to drag the man away from Jensen and the others, finally twisting counter to the man's balance and throwing him to the ground.

He followed the man down and grabbed his gun before the man could retrieve it. Three shots and the man was down, the third was thankfully stunned enough by his actions that he all but asked to be shot.

Three down. Five to go, Cougar smiled as he moved in on the farthest target. He had to keep them jumping and having one so far from the others was just asking for trouble.

#

It felt strange passing through the ship's network in the form of a wolf. It served to remind him that he needed to be stealthy, to move from subroutine to subroutine like a wolf moving between the shadows. Even as he thought it, the area around him shifted to trees.

He quickly reset the routine to its standard appearance. He knew that someone else traveling through the requisition system wouldn't notice, this was just his perception but there were people who could detect the code. It was attention he didn't need. He moved on looking for the maintenance routine for the navigation systems.

Something told him it was time for a diagnostics run.

#

Tracker shook his head as he looked down on the persona routine he was about to don. Something had told him he'd rather have switched with Duck then take on Jensen's persona, and now that he'd seen it he knew that feeling had been dead on.

Shaking his head, he loaded the code and sighed as he switched from wolf to overgrown, cartoon puppy dog, with what had to be the biggest feet Jensen could have coded into it and still have the thing not topple over as it moved.

He looked at the menagerie of predators that had swarmed in to overwhelm Duck and leapt into the fray with a howl, or what would have been a howl if he were in his own persona routine and not Jensen's. Instead of a howl it came out more as a happy yip.

'Fine,' he thought, there was nothing he could do about Jensen's choices of imagery but he could at least take it out on the battlefield with the invading army. He bowled into a pack of Hyenas and as he launched his attack program he found them pinned down with puppy drool.

He closed his eyes. This battle was probably going to drive him insane.

#

Cougar dove under an empty gurney as he felt rather than heard a gun being fired. He could almost sense the body and mind guiding the hand cannon; tracking his motions waiting for the right moment to fire. When that moment came he pushed himself forward and dropped to the ground. As he rolled back to a standing position, he picked up a bed pan. He kept moving knowing that if he stopped now he would be dead. He had already proven he was willing to kill and his enemies couldn't afford to take any chances with him.

He hurled the bedpan back at the man who'd shot at him, hoping it would distract the fake master-at-arms long enough for him to take out his intended target: the man furthest from the fray. Cougar closed the distance before the man could do more than call to his comrades.

Even as he shot, he sensed his other 'dance partners' as they began to circle him, trying to draw him into one big fight he couldn't hope to win. Meanwhile he tried to break the battle into four separate scraps

While having someone to question afterward would be nice, he knew that at this point keeping his people alive had to be his main concern. He knew that as long as he could keep the four focused on him and away from Jensen and the others they had a chance to get a message out.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just when you thought things couldn't get any worse...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trying to get this all edited and posted before I lose it again... 
> 
> Standard disclaimers sill apply.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN

_Jensen found controlling Tracker's persona difficult. It was designed to reflect the subtle nuances of his surroundings and subtle was not part of Jensen's repertoire. Sure, his work and hacks could be sublime, sometimes so understated he wasn't even sure how they worked, but to be honest, he was much better at being the six foot gorilla in the room. He was far better suited for the distract and destroy detail Duck and Tracker had cooking back at the main node, but as they'd pointed out-he was the comms man and once he got off the ship, he'd need those skills to reach the right people (read Clay, Roque and Pooch) with the information._

_Once he triggered the systems diagnostics, he followed the construct as it passed through the system, triggering the utilities it would need. The routine he was looking for was the report module. He was going to need that code to get off ship._

_He tweaked the controls of the persona routine as he moved. Tracker had the controls so finely tuned that they reacted to his thoughts before he'd even realized he'd made them. He needed a little more control than that. The last thing he needed was to accidentally think about a howitzer and have one..._

_He sighed as a howitzer appeared next to him. Yeah, the controls were way too touchy._

#

_Tracker was beginning to wonder about Jensen as he continued to bowl over constructs and IC like a bull in a china shop. He paused and shook his head, drool hitting what looked like a particularly nasty piece of black IC that had targeted him. The slobber bomb seemed to affect the Intruder Countermeasure's sensory array, making it wander around in circles attacking anything it hit: all he had to do was avoid it._

_While it was effective it wasn't him, which was the point. He tried to roll with it, but when he saw a black knight bearing down he grew frustrated as he tried and failed to activate his howitzer construct._

_On the third try he thought of a wet fish to the back of Jensen's head. Three seconds later a howitzer routine was running on his deck, ready to be deployed._

_As he activated it, he noticed the contingent of IC closing in on him. He was right-someone was expecting Jensen to be here, and now that he was appearing as Jensen, they were focusing on him almost to the exclusion of going after Duck._

_There were times he really hated being right._

#

Three guns came to bear as Cougar swept the legs out from under one of his would be killers. There was no doubt in his mind that they were going to kill him, well, they were going to try. He had already proven himself too much of a threat for them to risk 'merely' capturing him.

His elbow connected with a man's solar plexus as he did his best to move on before any of the others could tag him.

He could feel the tension in his abdomen increase as he rolled one way then quickly fought momentum to end up right back where he'd started, firing up at one of the surprised men as the other two quickly tried to put him into their cross fire.

He briefly felt the burn as his movements tore at his injuries and the muscles surrounding his abdomen tightened reflexively. He was going to have to finish this fight quickly.

#

_'Duck?' Tracker called as he noticed the area around her was shifting. 'What are you doing?'_

_'I'm still me hon, I get to play my way,' Duck answered, but he saw that shudder her persona got when she was laughing. There was nothing quite as disturbing as a laughing duck when you were trying to keep your sanity._

_He felt her running some sort of analysis routine on his deck and stared in disbelief as the results of her work manifest. Every persona, every construct, every element of their surroundings shifted until every raptor, tiger, lion, dragon, hydra, uruk-hai and piece of IC suddenly became a big, drooling cartoon dog._

_'The only bad part,' Duck told him as the horde of cartoon dogs turned on her. 'Is I can't tell which is you...'_

_She turned and as she moved her image shifted as she transferred the 'puppy dog' virus to her own persona and launched herself into the middle of the fray until there was no telling which dog was her._

_Tracker shook his head. He was going to have to have a long talk with Bear with this was over._

#

_As he approached the navigation system, Jensen was very thankful he was in stealth mode or, more to the point, Tracker's stealth mode. Something told him that 'Jensen Stealth mode' would have been detected automatically and he would now be either fighting for his life or trying to explain to the big hairy spider that he was not lunch, he was not the decker they were looking for and his serial number was not K2X5-171-023-9._

_As it was he sauntered in alongside the diagnostics construct straight into the navigation system. He fought the urge to jump in the air for joy and high-five the construct and was very thankful he'd adjusted Tracker's persona settings. As it was the wolf's tail nearly beat hard enough for takeoff._

_He began his own analysis routines as the maintenance construct began its. It was looking for errors; he was looking for a way out and anything that was trying to stop him. The standard systems check reporting node was blocked, but he had to suppress another round of tail wagging when he saw the GPS system was still open. Of course it was, GPS was a very specified communication with protocols all its own. It transmitted its location, satellites pinpointed its location and returned the appropriate information._

_Communications would be tricky, but he was fairly certain he could do it, given enough time._

#

Cougar could feel his concentration slipping. His sides ached and there was very little he could do for the stabbing pain in his abdomen. He wasn't sure if it hurt worse now or when he'd originally been shot, but he did know that focusing on that instead of his three remaining opponents would do their job for them.

He pushed the pain away from him as he focused on movement and breathing. He knew he had a maximum of five shots left, but even that was questionable. As he rolled, another bullet made its way past him and into the chair he'd been sitting on earlier, the chair that was protecting Duck: they were getting too close.

He pushed himself off the ground, launching himself not at the nearest attacker but the nearest piece of equipment he could find. He smiled as the lunch cart impacted with one of the remaining fighters, and while the man was down he emptied the remainder of his clip into the downed attacker.

Six down, two to go... unless they'd called for backup...

#

_Tracker watched as one by one personas were reloaded, and inventoried by whoever was running the show._

_Watching their work he realized that there were about four actual deckers directing the mayhem. He had found no signs of the military deckers who should have been in the system. It was just as well. He was about to re-write the ship's library and force a system update on all active deckers in the system, military or otherwise._

_Well, all that weren't him or Duck. Technically it was going to be Jensen and Duck since Jensen was running around in his persona._

_This whole exercise was beginning to give him a migraine._

_'Tracker,' Duck called in much the same tone as he had used on her earlier. 'Whatcha doing?'_

_'Following your example,' he answered innocently._

_'Should I be nervous?'_

_'Probably.'_

#

_Jensen felt his heart race as he approached the GPS node and prepared to slip through. While the invading deckers weren't monitoring the node, he knew damn well that the node would be protected. He would have to get through without being noticed or trick the routines into thinking he was just another transmission._

_He felt nervous when there was no reaction and then he realized, he was in a system that Tracker had helped design, in Tracker's persona, running Tracker's code. He was as normal here as the systems check request._

_He let his consciousness slip through the node and followed the tight beam transmission to the waiting satellite. Phase one, complete._

#

_It didn't take long for the other deckers to clear their systems and begin reactivating their defenses. It would have been easy to do something to them while they were rebooting ... if only they hadn't done it one at a time. No, the deckers were definitely on board the ship and they had someone monitoring their actions as well as directing them, and that person knew to keep at least two of his people active and ready at all times._

_This person knew the dangers of leaving someone like Jensen in the system unmonitored. Then again, Tracker had done just that. Actually, he'd given him the keys to a Spyder and told him not to drive too fast. He smiled: At least they were on the same side. He kicked himself mentally for letting Jensen and Duck's way of thinking overpower his normal, controlled processing. Chaos was their business and his main concern had to be the person calling the shots._

_That was the man Tracker wanted. Someone had let these fraggers onto a Naval Vessel and they were messing in his sandbox._

_Duck could handle the deckers, of that he had no doubt. That would leave him to deal with the Chief- Fragger-in-Charge._

_'Duck, be ready to move,' he warned her._

_'You going to share with the rest of the class?'_

_'You'll see soon enough,' he assured her as he began working his own code as quickly as he could. He couldn't take on the man if he succeeded in disabling himself with his own code._

#

Cougar forced himself to breathe slow and steady breaths as he squared off against the final two. Fortunately, or not depending on how you looked at it, they had decided that it was better to take him down quickly without any more gun play.

As they grappled he realized why. He had already been shot twice during the scuffle and in his current combative state he hadn't noticed it. Now, as they tried to apply leverage and tried pain inducing holds that dug into his wounds, he realized why.

One, they didn't want to accidentally shoot the other and two they enjoyed inflicting pain. He smiled a teasing smile as he used his own control to override their attempts. He laughed as he slipped out of one man's hold long enough to strike the other squarely in the nose with his head.

He winced as his neck disbursed the power of the blow, but a feral smile soon replaced it as he squared off against the last man, knowing full well that his last blow had, at the very least, knocked the man out.

The one remaining man quickly realized his mistake and went to rectify it. He drew his gun and aimed at Cougar as the physical adept moved in for the kill.

Cougar registered none of it, just the target and the need to take it down hard and fast before his own injuries took over and his body betrayed him. He came up with a hard blow with the heel of his hand to the man's sternum, the sound of the man's bones breaking was drowned out by the roar of a single shot.

It was over in an instant.

#

_Jensen fought the sense of vertigo as he followed the transmission to the satellites. Movement seemed to stretch in odd ways and he realized that the connection was slower and more unpredictable than a turtle and for someone used to responses being as fast as a thought, this whole thing was... wrong._

_He paused for a moment then smiled. He realized he was no longer decking, not really. Now that his consciousness was off the ship, it was the same as hacking a satellite to boost his transmissions._

_Using the satellite's own transmitting system, he took control of the comms satellite again rather than boosting his signal, used the maintenance communications routines to transmit his message._

#

Clay had been about to signal Roque to move in when his radio cracked to life. He looked at the others expectantly as a mechanical voice broke across their secure channel.

'Boss, we got trouble, right here in Jersey City.'

Clay growled slightly as he activated his comm. 'This is a secure military channel,' he began

'Yeah, yeah, encrypted and maintained by your own genius decker... who do you think this is anyway?'

Clay gave Roque a confused look. "Jensen?"

Roque gave a slight shrug. "You never know with Jensen."

'Yeah well... to keep this short... The guy who had Cougar shot... who tried to make me stay... he talked to us again. He said something about ringing the dinner bell and made it sound like Cougar and I were going to be on menu...'

Clay looked at the others and shook his head. This was all kinds of bad.

'They hit the mages first... they seem to be in some sort of trance. I decked in with a few friends, but things got pretty bad pretty fast... Whoever's taken over is blocking transmissions and this is probably going to be our one chance... '

'Tell me what you've got...'

#

_Tracker froze as the four deckers' personas came back fully online. Each of them now bore a token embedded in their chest like a sheriff's badge, each one constantly streaming data between the others._

_It was something they knew Duck and Tracker couldn't replicate on the fly, something for them to keep their side identified. Tracker smiled and turned to Duck. 'Have fun,' he told her. 'I'm going after their leader in the meat... I need enough time to track them to their originating node.'_

_'Tracker... I'm guessing you've prepped something stupid, risky, and dare I say insane since you're taking a page from my book?'_

_Tracker smiled, letting the cartoon dog drool for effect. 'Let's just say... you'll know when I've found them shall we?'_

_The fake cartoon dog Duck had initiated wavered slightly as he sent her a copy of Jensen's persona file and she slipped it on. 'Hang tough,' was all he dared tell her._

_As the now linked foursome moved in on the two of them, Tracker let his dog waver before it turned into a paper crane and flew away, leaving Duck to deal with her attackers._

_He knew full well Duck could take care of herself, could hang tough better than any of them, but he always felt like he was abandoning her when it came to things like this. Suddenly he understood how Jensen felt when they'd sent him on to find a way to communicate outside the ship._

_It didn't make him feel like any less of a heel for doing it, and he knew what would happen to Duck once he activated the update..._

_He couldn't even warn her without fear that their opposition would be forewarned in the process._

_No, he was definitely going to needs some therapy sessions with Bear once this was over._

#

Cougar fell to his knees unsure what had just happened, but he knew he was in pain and that no matter how much he tried to control it, his injuries had finally won out. He could feel the wound in his abdomen throb in time to his pulse even as he tried to relax the muscles surrounding it, struggling to relieve the pressure on the old wound's tract. Then there were the other newer injuries.

He knew he would have to worry about them later as he looked up to see four more men enter the room. He gave them a defiant look until he realized that while their weapons were drawn, they were pointed at the men at his feet and not at him.

"What took you... so long...? " He asked between breaths.

The leader of the team of Masters-at-Arms quickly holstered his weapon and knelt down next to Cougar, nodding for one of his men to grab a wheel chair. "We need to get his man down to surgery... now."

"Easy there Sergeant," he urged, as he returned to focus on Cougar. He quickly pulled back when Cougar fixed him with a determined gaze.

"I...will not be going... anywhere. These people are mine-I will continue to protect them until one of them relieves me..."

The Master-At-Arms looked at him, then at the men on the floor and then back to the people he'd been protecting. He let his breath out. Not wanting a repeat performance, he nodded towards the chair.

"How about if we bring the treatment to you?"

Cougar nodded. "That... would be... acceptable."

As another man joined him, The Master-At-Arms helped Cougar into the chair. Once Cougar was settled, he asked, "How did you know they were impostors?"

Cougar's smiled and looked the man in the eyes, a slight hint of danger lurking in his expression. "Even a Loser knows you don't wear your cover inside..."


	28. Chapter 28

 

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

 

Clay listened to what Jensen had to say and shook his head, the pieces were starting to fit together, and he was really not liking the way it looked.

He closed his eyes as tried to process the information, as if the act could keep him from seeing the big picture but when he re-opened his eyes, everything was exactly the same.

"Roque," he said with a nod towards the mage. "This spell... ritual... thing you're talking about, is it big enough to do what Jensen's talking about?"

Roque shook his head. "Nah, no... this is big but it's not that... big..."

There was something about the way his second in command's expression froze as the sentence trailed off that made the hairs on the back of Clay's neck stand up.

"Not this one... by itself?" he asked hoping against hope that the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach was just from his injuries.

"No, not by itself."

Pooch listened to them, his smile also faltering as he thought about it. "Tell me it's not stacked... not using something like triangulation to target the ship..."

Roque shook his head. "Not triangulation as much as... " He paused as he searched for the words.

"Think of a spider's web. You have the strands that anchor the web to something... all crossing in the middle, and the web itself spirals around the strands.... But in this case, those strands are ley lines... lines of power, and they cross each other all over the world... and all you need is three webs to surround something... put it in the middle."

'By 'something' you mean the ship...' the mechanical voice of the satellite's diagnostic equipment asked. The tone was wrong, but the question was pure Jensen.

"If they're summoning something," Roque added. "Something that 'big'... it's going to need a lot of power."

'...A...nd we're the smorgasbord...' Jensen somehow made the mechanical voice sound dejected.

'Not if we can help it,' Clay assured him before stating aloud, "Not if we can help it."

#

_Jensen looked around the satellite's system, knowing he couldn't stay here. Even as they spoke he could feel something happening in the system and if the ship closed down all output, he would be snapped back to his body._

_'Boss, as much fun as this has been... I'm going to have to go. Time is running out and I left some friends back in the Matrix to cover me... and something is closing in on them.' He paused, scanning the readout from his utilities. "Closing in on us."_

_'We'll get you out of there,' he heard Clay promise._

_'They're in the system, and they've got people looking for us on the ship. We're about to be cut off... Boss: sooner would be better than later...'_

_He felt the connection slam shut and knew there was nothing he could do._

_He felt a sudden wash of vertigo as the connection was closed and his consciousness was slammed back into his body with a force that seemed to have been accelerated by the distance he'd traversed to get the message out._

#

Clay let his breath out slowly as he tried to figure out what to do next. Jensen and Cougar, not to mention everyone on board the Serenity, were counting on them getting the word out; Casey and the rest of his team were counting on him to get them out of the jungle without them ending up on the menu, and he knew Pooch wasn't going to want to leave without the captives they'd noticed earlier. Then there was the matter of the 'prisoner' in the clearing.

The whole thing smelled like a trap.

It was possible that the man tethered to the transmitter was an innocent bystander/captured soldier but he'd seen the way these people treated their captives and he'd seen what happened when a medic was left in the same position.

After a pause he turned to medic.

"Casey, before they set you in the clearing... how did they treat you?"

She shrugged. "POW mostly... hands on head... a little bit of roughing up...confiscated anything that could be used as a weapon. "

"Except the Sgain Dubh," Roque corrected.

"Only 'cause they didn't see it."

Clay nodded, turning to give Roque a questioning look. 'That congruent with what you saw?'

Roque shook his head. 'There's no sign of forced march, no worry. If anything he's just... waiting.'

Clay nodded before giving Pooch a slight head bob.

Pooch simply lowered his head as if to say 'uhm... boss...'

'Clay... I've got one remote left that's functioning and that's the prototype. It's sitting where the prisoners were being kept.

Clay nodded. "We move on, find another clearing and get clear... there's too much riding on this."

To Clay's relief, Casey gave a worried look towards the clearing but followed as the others moved on and said nothing.

#

Cougar maintained a stoic silence as the medic worked on his injuries. From time to time he would wince when they touched a particularly tender place, but he simply responded to their questions with simple gestures and an occasional raised eyebrow.

The only time he spoke was when the Master-at-Arms who'd stayed with him would ask a question.

"Sergeant Green, I really think I should take you to triage now," the medic urged as he finished bandaging his arm. "New injuries on top of old ones can cause complications with partially healed wounds..."

Cougar looked at the medic and shook his head. "Thank you, but the Master-at-Arms will bring me down when we are finished here."

His tone was polite, but it gave no room for argument. He paused his expression softening. "But if you could check on the gentlemen in beds six and seven... I would appreciate it."

When the medic moved on he again focused on the Master-at-Arms. "We do not know how many people are involved or where they are," he warned.

"We do know that there are eight less than there were thanks to you."

Cougar's eyes twinkled as he corrected the man. "Seven, thanks to me... the eighth was entirely your doing."

"I owed him," the Master-at-Ams answered rubbing his shoulder.

Cougar simply laughed at that.

#

Jensen groaned as he tried to move and then thought better of it.

The first thing he became aware of, other than the sense of nausea and vertigo was the sound of Cougar's voice.

That surprised him since Cougar wasn't really known for saying more than three words in an hour. He paused trying to focus on the conversation but it was all just a jumble.

"Remind me to avoid circumstances that involve being dumped from the matrix into my body at high velocity..." he groaned. "And why is there an echo in here?"

"The echo," he heard Cougar tell him in a bemused voice. "Is in your head....here, drink."

That was more like the Cougar he knew. He felt a straw touch his lips and did as instructed. "Oh... damn..." he groaned again.

At least the echo was fading. "That was... "

He opened his eyes and noticed that Tracker was still decked in and that Duck was still carefully tucked behind the chair that sat between them, telling him that things were not 100% yet. He rolled his eyes as he tried to find something to focus on and frowned when he noticed the bodies littering the ground around him.

He looked at the bodies, then back at Cougar, noticing for the first time the new, crisp bandages Cougar was sporting, then back at the bodies.

"Cougs?" he asked gesturing towards the bodies.

Cougar smiled at him and shrugged.

Jensen shook his head. There really wasn't much else to say on the matter.

#

_Duck wasn't entirely crazy about four against one, especially when she was the one. She may be crazy, but contrary to popular belief, she did not have a death wish._

_She quickly put Jensen's diagnostics to work. It was a dangerous game, working someone else's utilities without getting acquainted with them beforehand, but planning hadn't really been an option with the way things had worked out._

_She had to play this one through, and play it as Jensen, not Duck. That meant no Duck gags, no bending the imagery to her will. She had to Jensonize her strategy._

_She thought back to the challenges at the conference and facing off against Jensen. Then she was working out his code but now she needed to focus on his style and that meant scanning his utilities and seeing how they were coded._

_Splitting her attention between four attackers, the system's intruder countermeasures and figuring out Jensen's modus operandi took the assignment from the 'interesting' column and moved it firmly into the 'Why did I get myself into this?' column._

_Her one comforting thought was the reason she was the one standing here: she had a much better chance of pulling it off than Tracker would. The mind behind dog drool attacks and flea flicker passes involving coded fleas was a lot closer to her way of thinking than her teammate's._

#

_Moving into the shadows Tracker felt more at home than he had since they'd started this run. This was not only his way of running, it was his design. Other deckers may have built on what he'd done, making it their own, upgrading it as they needed to claim it as theirs, but it was still built on his original foundation and that meant there were protocols and routines that he had access to that were no longer used or referenced by the system._

_It wasn't so much a case of using a back door as it was using the old service tunnels._

_While the battle raged above him he tracked the signals to their origin points on the ship. They were in the main control unit, working with the shipboard servers. That did not surprise him, but having worked with Duck as long as he had, he continued to trace the signal past the node point to the actual deck and the decker beyond._

_One decker was in the room proper as were three other decks, but each deck was cabled to another point on the ship._

_They were sneaky, that was for sure. He was sneakier. As he finished his traces and matched them up to the ship's design he put the final touches on his system wide update._

_With the deckers in different locations, all of which had jacks available he couldn't just dump them from the system and lock down their nodes. No, if he went that route three of them would be back in in minutes, and their supervisor would be wise to their deception._

_It didn't make it any easier knowing what he was about to do to his best friend._

#

"Did you get the message out?" Cougar asked once he was sure Jensen was coherent enough to answer.

Jensen smiled, and was about to launch into his standard delivery when Cougar winced.

Jensen paused for a moment, allowing his teammate to catch his breath and regain control. Now was the time to be serious.

"It's a lot worse than we thought-- someone's running heavy magic. Heavy as in it's impressed Roque and you know that takes a lot of doing. Based on what I've told him... he's thinking that what they've been looking at is only one third of the spell... so yeah, we're in the drecker deep, on the bright side we got a call out."

He paused again looking at the fake Masters-at-Arms as they were placed in body bags.

"And you... found something to do to keep from being... what... bored?"

Again, Cougar's only answer was a simple shrug.

"What about them?" he asked nodding towards Tracker.

"Them?" the Master-at-Arms asked.

Cougar gave him a sheepish look and nodded behind him, carefully pulling the blanket off of Duck. "There weren't enough beds...."

#

_Duck wanted to laugh as she realized the simplistic beauty of Jensen's persona. Long thick fur kept most of the attacks from actually reaching the inner workings of the construct while the long bushy tail worked both as a rudder and something to simply batter against attack constructs. So many of the defenses were simply built in. She didn't deploy the tail as much as turn and let it bump into things as she turned._

_But the best part, was in the image itself. It was easy to underestimate the damage a giant oversized, semi comedic, cartoon dog could generate._

_Unfortunately her opponents were beginning to realize just how dangerous the goofy dog actually was._

_While she kept them at bay, ostensibly chasing her own tail, she began adapting Jensen's flea routine. The fleas were tiny constructs that held very little energy on their own, but rather leached it out of whatever they attached themselves to._

_One flea was easy to miss and would cause no noticeable damage, but several hundred of them, generating more as they moved, using the energy they drained to propagate more was sheer genius._

_The one thing Jensen had started to do, but never finished was to make them carriers of something as well. A little bit of insertion code and a small loop back would allow her to use them to infect the attacking personas._

_Using the energy the dog persona gathered spinning provided the power she needed to launch her miniature army at the four she now faced._

_She smiled when she noticed the color shift in their shared tokens. All she had to do was survive the next several rounds of attacks and let the fleas, and their viruses, do their trick._

_That was when she noticed the fifth figure enter the arena. When he solidified as a groomer with a muzzle, a leash and a cattle prod, she knew this was their ringleader and that he was prepared for whatever Jensen could dish out at him._

_All she had to do was hang tough... and remain free long enough to bite him in the ass. She hoped Jensen's persona's teeth were sharp._

#

_Tracker was about to initiate his update when he noticed another persona enter the fray. For a moment he was afraid it was Jensen but a quick analysis proved there was no sign of Jensen in the system. He fired a quick message to Jensen's deck and a moment later he had the information he needed._  
 _Jensen was out of the matrix and waiting on the outside with news. It had to be the lead drecking fragger. Part of him wanted to face off against this man, but he knew that in order to stop him, to stop all of them that would never happen._

_The man was inside the system and it was time to trap him there._

_He closed his eyes and sent one final message to Duck before activating the code._

_'Hang Tough!_

 


	29. Chapter 29

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

Jensen was the first to notice the change in Tracker's breathing as he emerged from the matrix. He envied the smooth transition from immersion to reality that had been denied him.

"'Bout time you got back... I was talking to..."

His sentence trailed off as Duck began to go into convulsions. Cougar gave him a worried look and reached for the dump button built into the deck only to be stopped by Tracker.

"No!" He drew a quick breath, the movement obviously hurting as he struggled to keep anyone from disconnecting Duck from her deck, or her deck from the wall.

"Things were worse than we thought," he said with a slight gasp. "- there's someone else in the system and he's running the team that attacked us... I needed to neutralize everyone in the system until we could get it all sorted out."

Jensen looked at Duck as her muscles continued to spasm. Despite himself he was on his feet and pulling Tracker up by his hospital gown oblivious to everything except his need to stop whatever it was that was happening to Duck.

"What did you do!?"

When Tracker didn't answer, Jensen shook him harder, only to be stopped by Cougar.

"Jensen, let go... you are hurting him," Cougar warned in a firm yet quiet tone.

Cougar's words finally registered as he noticed the pained expression on Tracker's face. Until that moment he had forgotten that the other decker had been shot and nearly killed by an armor-piercing round less than twenty four hours ago.

He let go and watched Tracker expectantly.

"There is one of them in the main server room, one in the main control system, two in laundry services and one in accounting. Four of them are hooked in through the main server... with cables and or deck lines going into the ceiling with drop downs in each room. The other is their leader, and a very sneaky bastage. He's in the control room."

"They did everything they could think of to make themselves hard to find. I found them, but... if we start shutting them down, the remote members of the unit, would simply have to pack up and leave before we traced them down through their cables. Then they'd be free to set up shop elsewhere and start all over again."

Jensen realized that some of the pained expression on the other decker's face had nothing to do with his injuries, but what he had been forced to do to Duck.

"Talk to me," he urged.

"There were too many of them and if we want to successfully neutralize them, we had to do something drastic, and potentially deadly. It was the only way to hold them where they were... until we could get to them physically."

Tracker gave Duck a worried look before continuing to explain.

"If we let them slip away, they would come back elsewhere and they would have used the ship's own systems to track us down, and lock us in position."

"I couldn't chance that. The only choice was to take them out en masse. Duck's and my personas have some very old, obscure code built in, dating back to the early days in the system, something we used when we were debugging. It would have protected us..."

"Except you'd switched with me..." Jensen stated feeling his shoulders sag.

"But it would have protected you and her... We couldn't risk endangering you... not until you got the message out."

He closed his eyes for a moment, giving Jensen time to process what he'd been told.

"Please tell me you got the message out..."

Jensen nodded, placing a gentle hand on the older man's shoulder. "I got the message out... "

Tracker let out a relieved breath. "Good. Whoever these fraggers are, they were looking for you specifically. I don't think they knew they were facing off against a couple of old timers until Duck made every last one of us look like you. That's when someone controlled their coming back online so we were constantly covered and they came back with linked identity tokens... no way we could forge those fast enough to make a difference"

Jensen looked at Duck and then back at Tracker. "And then the two of you switched..."

Tracker nodded numbly. "She's better at distraction and mayhem. I'm better at stealth."

"How does it work and how do we get her back?"

"It makes every persona in the network IC compatible. The security countermeasures become part of their structure. As long as you are in the system, it will force you to remain where you are. It will keep the persona's power lower, but does no permanent damage..."

"And if they leave the system?"

"You stop receiving a systems report and the IC goes active."

Jensen pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "So, what you're saying is, you basically deadlocked the network."

Tracker gave Duck a worried look. "Pretty much."

"We're going to have to go back in and get Duck."

"And deal with them."

"What are we waiting for?"

Once Tracker had given the Master-at-Arms a rundown on the attackers' locations, he turned towards Jensen. "Use Duck's Persona... it's built into the deck and something tells me being Duck would suit you better than being me did.

#

_Duck knew she was in trouble. The four original deckers continued to circle her, hitting her when they could- but she knew they were simply herding her and penning her in until a fifth, a persona that looked like a 'dog groomer' could get closer._

_Yeah, they weren't even trying to hide the fact that they were here for Jensen._

_She let out a growl as one of them circled behind her and she realized she had the option to engage in an out and out fight, or to play fight. Knowing Jensen, she opted for play._

_She quickly turned, letting the growl modulate into a playful sound as she grabbed an attacking construct in her teeth and began shaking it. As she shook it, she turned and 'accidentally' let it fly into one of the other attackers._

_She quickly followed the 'accident' with a playful romp to grab the construct as if it were a game of keep away, trampling the downed decker's persona in the process, as she bounded away she let out a happy yip and turned before they could completely recover and adapt._

_She let out a dog laugh: it was a game of keep away, but she was what she was trying to keep away from the groomer._

_The game became an odd combination of chess, checkers, tag, pickle, dodge ball and keep away with no real rules. As she played, she knew she'd made the right decision. This was pure Jensen all the way. She kept the deckers focused on her rather than their own systems, allowing the fleas to do their work._

_By the time they'd noticed something was wrong, they were much slower and the flea count was overwhelming them. She was about to howl for joy when she saw the flicker out the corner of her eye and froze._

_The four deckers didn't know what it was, but Duck did and judging by his reaction the groomer did too. She closed her eyes, knowing firsthand the vertigo that accompanied being inside the network during a system wide update._

_Reflexively she turned her diagnostics on, but rather than laying an egg she found her personal sitting on its haunches scratching its ear._

_As the wave hit, Tracker's words came back to her: 'hang tough'._

_Her own thoughts were more along the lines of 'Oh Frag...' as she realized exactly what her partner had done._

_#_

_Jensen felt slightly nauseous as he re-entered the ship's systems. He realized it was a combination of having just recovered from dumpshock and the fact that he was inside duck's persona construct, which had an entirely different view of the virtual world than he was used to._

_'Man,' he commented without thinking. 'So this is the way Duck sees the world...'_

_'Scary isn't it?' Tracker responded as his persona solidified next to Jensen's rendition of Duck's persona._

_'Kinda trippy if you ask me,' he answered. 'I think I like it...'_

_He could almost feel Tracker starting to develop a wet fish, but he could also feel the routine stop as Tracker turned his attention to the matter at hand._

_He was not in the network with Duck, he was there to rescue Duck. They both were._

_In unison they moved towards the node where they had originally parted company._

_It was like moving in a wasteland. Routines that normally flowed hung in the air like props in a stop motion scene waiting to be posed for the camera's next frame of film._

_'Dah-am... when you freeze a system.. you really...' The sentence died on his lips as they turned the corner and saw the dog groomer standing over Jensen's cartoon dog, cattle prod in hand._

_#_

_Duck blinked as she tried to analyze what had happened. She could detect traces of IC permeating her persona, working its way into her deck as she watched helplessly._

_It was a creative use of the system, she'd give Tracker that much, but perhaps a little bit over overkill. Scan showed that all the systems around her had lagged to a halt. At least she didn't have to worry about her attackers, or so she thought._

_'Very clever, Corporal,' a voice sneered._

_She looked up and saw that the dog groomer was not only still standing, he was now looming over her._

_'It would have worked if you were just dealing with your contemporaries. It's a good thing Max thought to ask me to this little party he was throwing for you... '_

_As the man stalked around her, he played with the cattle prod._

_'You know... I've read your record... creative thinker... good at solving problems on your feet... and from the looks of things... a little too sure of yourself...'_

_'Man,' she answered in the best Jensen-esque tone she could muster. 'Do whatever you're going to do... just stop monologue-ing...'_

_She almost regretted the request when the 'cattle prod' connected with the persona routine. She was pretty sure the surge was felt all the way back to her body. It was enough to jumble her control of the routine, her deck and probably her central nervous system._

_She let out a slight whine and kept still. It seemed that the fleas were small enough that the system update didn't detect them. If she was really lucky... they would take him down._

_'Oh yes, it also says... you talk too much...'_

_She could feel the man circling her, sneering as he again applied the cattle prod. This time she focused on its functionality._

_If she could figure it out, she could use it... She clung to that thought as the charge once again disrupted her systems here and outside the network._

_All she had to do was survive long enough to use it._

_#_

_Jensen winced as the cattle prod connected with his persona. He felt Tracker's warning even as his hackles started to rise. He forced himself to remember he was not Jensen right now. Right now he was Duck and Duck was... in trouble._

_As the cattle prod connected for a second time he surged forward. Hell, he might not be Jensen, but Duck could be just as impetuous as he was when necessary, and this was necessary, if the power surge pushed Duck out of the system now, it would kill her._

_'Let me do Duck's job,' he assured Tracker across their interworked computers. 'You do yours and end this thing.'_

_He waited for Tracker to start moving before he slouched against one of the walls and shook his head._

_"Kicking a dog when he's down... now that's original," Jensen commented, critiquing the man's style. "You know with all the imagery available... I'm surprised you feel the need to go for the cliches..."_

_The dog groomer wheeled on him and then smiled. "Duck... to what do I owe the..."_

_He froze, his eyes narrowing. "Where is Tracker?"_

_"Tracker?" Jensen asked innocently as he tried to keep the 'groomer's' attention._

_"Don't bother with the innocent routine. I can't see why anyone who's read your file could buy it. No, where there's one of you... the other can't be far behind..."_

_He turned and catching some movement in the periphery he acted. His smile was actually smug as he slammed the cattle prod down, not into Duck, but into the ground around them. He could see the flash of code as it spread, targeting the tokens embedded in the four personas lining the floor._

_Slowly they began to jerk to life, like zombies rising from the grave._

_There was no way this could be good._

_#_

_Duck scanned the transmission and began reverse engineering it. If it made it so the others could remove the update from their systems, maybe it would work for her. She just had to figure out the mechanics._

_As she worked, she noticed a message from Tracker. 'Hang in there... just a little while longer.'_

_'Not that I'm not glad to see you two but what the hell are you playing at? This guy is playing for keeps.'_

_'Can't jack you out just yet...'_

_'Yeah, I got that: 'Hang Tough.' Doesn't mean I have to like it.'_

_'Just hold on and keep working the problem.'_

_''Keep working the problem' he says... how about we work the part where you slammed me with an update that he's immune to... work out that for me while I work on getting back on my feet... paws... things I walk around on...'_

_'Duck, focus.'_

_'You focus on the groomer from hell and his zombieland band. I'm busy here,' Duck felt somehow proud that she'd managed to keep her sense of perspective, warped though it may be._

_#_

_Jensen watched as the groomer stood and sauntered between the two of them: all but daring 'Duck' to come closer._

_"Tracker... if you don't want this... pup... to die before he can make it to our level... I suggest you make yourself known._

_Jensen could feel his heart beating faster as Tracker detached himself from the shadows. The wolf tilted his head, studying the groomer for few moments. There was a slight hint of puzzlement and then a look of disgust as he recognized his opponent._

_"Wade," the wolf growled._

_The groomer smiled and gave a half bow. "I'm so glad you remembered me..."_

_The wolf looked like it had eaten something particularly distasteful. "We consulted once... " He explained to 'Duck'. "CIA. Black ops of the 'I need a shower now' kind."_

_He turned back to the groomer. "You were a pompous ass then... glad to see some things never change."_

_"I really didn't expect to find you still kicking around," the groomer, Wade, admitted. "Especially not when you're backing up someone like Duck. So why the interest in the Corporal?"_

_"Not so much the Corporal." Tracker answered, tracking the lines of data around him. "This is my ship... my code... your presence here is like calling me out at high noon."_

_Jensen watched as the hackles on Tracker's persona raised perceptibly. Something told him, he was going to have to be the sneaky one here. It would be so much easier if everyone stuck with the script._


	30. Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

_ *Tracker continued to edge in on Wade, his eyes turning yellow as the area around them darkened and took on a more 'foresty' feel. _

_ Wade sneered as he plunged the cattle prod into 'Jensen' again. _

_ "You've been hanging with her too long," he said nodding dismissively towards 'Duck' then he let out a snort. "You know... I think I know why the Corporal here interests you so much... he's like... what you'd get if your personas had a secret love-child. _

_ Wade laughed at his own joke. _

_ "The impulsive, unpredictability of the Duck, and the same mangy mongrel representation...." _

_ Tracker winced as Jensen moved closer and Wade again hit 'Duck as Jensen' with the cattle prod and held it there as he warned 'Duck' to back off. _

_ Tracker flicked his head up slightly, telling Jensen to back up. _

_ When he did, Wade removed the prod and twirled it. "Now... I could keep this up all day... And I know you could eventually find a weakness in my defenses... but I think by now you realize you have bigger issues to deal with..." _

_ "What do you want?" Tracker growled. _

_ "I'll leave you to figure out the ship... you might even be able to save all those wounded soldiers and doctors... all it will cost you is this one," he explained nudging 'Jensen' with his foot. _

 

#

_ Duck swore as she read through the routines this 'Wade-person' had sent to the other deckers to cure them of their affinity for IC. _

_ 'Think Duck... think,' she urged herself. 'Tracker wouldn't have done this without leaving us an out.' _

_ She looked at the code and the forms of the reviving deckers. _

_ 'Tracker's fine... Jensen's fine... why am I... ' _

_ As she talked to herself Tracker's comment came back to her. 'I consulted with him.' _

_ Contemporaries... _

_ She closed her eyes and tried to route the energy from 'cattle prod' attack into her fading systems. _

_ 'Tracker, Tracker, if this numbnutz is an example of the people you consulted with before you met me... I really need to rethink our partnership...' _

_ She activated Jensen's sensors and 'looked' out at the world around her and froze. Her angle gave her a unique view of the four personas that were now closing in on Jensen...Her... whoever it was in the duck suit right now. _

_ She knew the pieces were there but she just had to noodle it out... is there such a thing as a flaky noodle? _

_ Duck snorted. 'Oh, Tracker... you moron... you were Jensen/me when you started this weren't you?' _

_ She quickly scanned the update. Contemporaries... she began flipping through the flash update 'Groomer-Wade' had sent and shuddered. 'Oh Crap' _

_ He didn't give them the code they needed to survive the IC, he'd infected them... Zombies was a better description than she thought. _

_ 'Update, update... who's got the update... ' she thought to herself as she tried to shift through the code while trying to get her mind to work in a more linear progression. Failing that she realized there was only one thing left to do. 'Time to get suicidal.' _

#

_ Jensen was almost tempted to give Wade what he wanted, but he also knew there was no way the man would ever believe that he was anyone other than Duck. _

_ 'Figures I'd end up coming to this costume party dressed as the decker with a penchant for bending her surroundings to her will,' he groused to himself. _

_ He realized that Wade had to have some sort of end game planned here. Wade had been waiting for him to show up, but having him here and having him in the flesh were two different things... unless he didn't want him... but something in his head. _

_ He felt a cold chill wash through him as he tried to get Tracker's attention. When he looked up, he saw that Tracker's attention was focused not on him, but behind him. _

_ "There are zombies behind me, aren't there?" he asked. _

_ Tracker for his part merely nodded. _

_ This was so not good. _

#

 

Cougar sat patiently watching over his friend as he had on many occasions. He took comfort in the fact that he was now armed and accompanied by one Master-at-Arms Martinez, also armed and now fully briefed on what was going on within the ship's computer system.

When Duck would suffer a seizure it was MA Martinez who held the cushions around her and made sure she did not get disconnected from her equipment.

  
The first time Cougar had tried, he had aggravated his injures enough that the MA took notice and groused at him. "Look, you can stay here till they're safe, but if you bleed out before I can get you downstairs... the medics'll kill me."

Cougar had finally acquiesced, but it didn't keep him from moving forward each time one started. The sniper was beginning to get tired of watching and waiting. He actually felt relief when the MA's radio came to life and he watched as Martinez leaned his ear over to the microphone to get the full details.

They had already found and locked down four of the five deckers involved and were closing in on the fifth. Once they had him, they could end this madness... or at least this phase of it.

"The control room has been secured," he informed Cougar.

Cougar smiled and moved over to Jensen's side and typed the information into the deck Jensen was using.

#

_ Wade laughed at the exchange. _

_ "Now I see why you keep her around. Nothing like having someone to take the hits for you while you sit on your haunches trying to make up your mind." _

_ He shook his head as he played with the settings on his cattle prod. 'Let me make it easy for you Tracker... you and your little friend Duck leave... or I hit the boy with a full charge, guaranteed to take him out of this world and the next." _

_ His eyes narrowed. "That is what you planned for me and my team isn't it? We jack out with all that IC in our decks and get ourselves fried for the trouble? _

_ "No," Tracker answered in disgust. "I just didn't want you jacking out before we could have our little dance." _

_ "Sorry to disappoint Tracker, but I have a schedule to keep... you know how it is." _

_ "People to kill, sacrifices to make," Jensen muttered as he watched the Zombies in his peripheral vision. "Did your team know they were expendable?" _

_ "Oh... very good... how long did it take you to figure that one out?" _

_ "The 'sacrifices to make' part about three milliseconds before you plunged your little shock stick into the system... just didn't figure you were cold enough to take out your own people so you could use their systems to do your bidding...just... ew..." _

_ They were way too close for his comfort and something told him he needed to avoid their touch-- but he also needed to keep them away from Duck. _

_ "Tracker are you done with this asshole, 'cause I'm really, really tired of his filling my space with this attitude." _

_ As he asked his question he sensed a message coming through on his deck and smiled as he forwarded it to Tracker's deck. _

_ Tracker smiled a very dangerous smile. "Oh yeah... now's a good time." _

_ As he moved in, Wade hit 'Jensen' with the shock stick a final time. _

#

 

_ Duck was multiprocessing with a vengeance now. Not her deck, not her corrupted copy of Jensen's persona, but her and everything her mind had opened up to her. She could see now. See what Tracker had planned and she wanted to hug him, as soon as she finished throttling him. _

_ Tracker was being her: bending the rules and twisting them to his needs, only he wasn't her at the time... no... he was running in Jensen's persona. _

_ The update would have affected him because his persona was newer, it never had the original code. The new was built on the foundation of the old and they were there when the foundation had been laid. They had poured it... they were part of it: Tracker, herself... and from the looks of it Wade. _

_ The update would not affect anything from the foundation, keeping the bones of the system unchanged: The bones, and those who had been a part of its creation. _

_ Tracker had known he would be affected since he wasn't in his own persona. He had been depending on her figuring it out and sorting through things, only the battle had changed and they had switched and she was the one who got 'updated.' It was why Jensen was there in her persona. It was immune to the update. _

_ She smiled as the second to last piece fell into place. Her persona was safe because it held the original code, and she had been a part of making the original code: Her mind, her will... her code... her: the person behind the persona, not the persona itself. All she had to do was drop Jensen's persona, which took her to the last part of the equation: energy. _

_ 'Energy can neither be created nor destroyed, it can only change state,' she thought and knew that this low in the code, it was all energy. On or off, 1...0... a simple switch... switch. _

_ She just needed the energy to change her state. _

>

_ At least she hoped that was the case, otherwise this was going to be a very short trip. _

#

 

_ Jensen stretched out his wings, launching pin-feathers which flew like daggers at Wade, and whatever was left of the zombied personas. It wasn't dog slobber, but it would do in a pinch. _

_ When he saw Tracker launch himself at Wade with teeth bared, he knew it was up to him to keep the others at bay. He had just started to turn when he caught the flash of light as his persona started to break apart. _

_ "No!" he yelled. _

_ Wade laughed as he pushed the cattle prod deeper into the vanishing form. _

_ "DUCK!" _

_ He saw the confused look on Wade's face as he realized that things still weren't as they seemed then winced as Wade increased the power he was feeding through the prod, setting it to maximum. He had to take out at least one of them, and if it wasn't Jensen, Duck would be a good second choice. It would shake the other deckers up if nothing else, seeing a friend and mentor die. _

_ Jensen stared in disbelief as his persona seemed to implode on itself. _

_ As the form all but vanished, a hand reached out, grabbing hold of the cattle prod. Solidifying and rising from the remains of the defeated persona was a slight feminine form glowing like chrome in the fading light from Jensen's cartoon dog. _

_ She stood, her face slowly forming features which snarled at Wade as she turned the prod on him. The force from the discharge was enough to throw Tracker away from the CIA Operative before it started to affect his persona. _

_ Wade screamed in a combination of rage and fear as his own persona started to come apart but as it vanished so did the cattle prod. He laughed as he grabbed Duck by the throat and tried to pull her mind out of her body. _

_ "My turn," he snarled as he pushed his hands into the chrome form. The form smiled at him, before turning amorphous and flowing out of his hands before pooling on the ground and reforming into an unrefined human form. _

_ As he moved, the zombies continued to close in to Jensen and the others. _

_ "Get Duck!" Jensen yelled closing the distance. Tracker was still reeling from the discharge, but forced himself back to his feet and loped forward to drag Duck to safety. _

_ As Wade tried to finish her off, Jensen grabbed his arm and flung him into the zombied personas, then threw himself on top of Tracker and Duck. _

_ The zombies vanished in a computer-jarring flash of energy leaving the three of them looking at the ruins of the network. _

_ Jensen started laughing at the sheer damage done and the fact that they were still alive. Tracker gave Duck's hair a gentle ruffle. _

_ "Sorry about that,"he said quietly. "It was the only way of stopping them I could think of, I was hoping you'd figure the way out." _

_ Duck gave him a derisive snort and shook her head. "You just wanted to see me naked." _

_ Tracker laughed as Jensen offered them a wing up. _

_ "Did you see that??" Jensen asked in disbelief. _

_ "Yeah Jay, we saw," Duck answered. _

_ "It was kinda hard to miss," Tracker added rubbing a paw over his ear. _

_ "Oh, come on you two that was... that was amazing!" _

_ "Yeah... but it's not over," Tracker reminded him. _

_ Jensen exchanged a smile with Duck. Sometimes, 'it not being over' was a good thing. _

_ 'That which does not kill us," Jensen offered. _

_ "May come back for seconds," Duck assured him. _

_ "Yeah... let's get out of here." _

#

 

_ Jensen watched in bemused silence as Tracker ran a 'roll back' on the update Duck had been given, just to make sure. His silence turned into out and out laughter when Duck informed Tracker that he needed a flea dip 'just to be sure' his persona hadn't been inflicted by Jensen's 'Flea constructs' _

_ He wasn't laughing however when he was forced to endure the same indignity. Sometimes clean-up was worse than the actual battle. _

_ "Let's get Duck out of here and then I'll help with the cleanup," he offered. _

_ Tracker looked at Duck and shook his head. "You'll be needed outside. We're still going to need someone to keep communications up and that, I'm afraid, is you." _

_ "And you can't do a mass update because there's nothing to say there aren't more of ..." Jensen shrugged and nodded to the sight of the personal implosion. _

_ "Exactly. It's going to be a one by one process." _

_ "I could help," Duck offered. _

_ Tracker simply looked at her. "Duck you've already nearly died once today-- what did we say about establishing limits?" _

_ "That I will try and limit myself to one near death experience a day and try to keep them at least a week apart...." _

_ Jensen looked at Tracker, almost aghast. "Where's the fun in that?" _

_ Tracker sighed. "One of you is bad enough." _

_ "Which?" Jensen and Duck asked in unison. _

_ Tracker merely nodded. _

 

 


	31. Chapter 31

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

Cougar watched as Tracker's vitals slowed and entered a period of what looked like deep relaxation. He smiled and looked at Martinez. "It will not be long now." he assured the MA.

Martinez frowned and looked at Tracker, and then Jensen. "How can you tell?"

"His heart rate has slowed. I would venture that Jensen's has as well. It is a sign they have finished their task and are preparing to return."

Martinez nodded, but even as he looked on, Tracker's pulse rocketed up, as did his breathing.

"What does that mean?" Martinez asked worriedly as alarms started going off.

Cougar backed away watching Tracker worriedly before turning towards Jensen.

"It means... it is not over yet..."

#

_ As they finished 'cleaning themselves up,' Jensen took one last look around, and was eternally grateful he had. _

_ 'Oh... crap... the huh?' he muttered as he stared at the shambling figures that seemed to be homing in on them. _

_ 'You okay?' Tracker asked without turning around. _

_ Jensen grabbed Tracker by the shoulders, physically turned him so he was looking behind them and answered. "I don't think so..." _

_ "Oh... Frag!" Tracker quickly looked around and started thinking. "Duck we need a wall. Jensen, put a moat in front of it fill it with IC." _

_ "What are you going to be doing?" _

_ "Making fire." _

_ Jensen and Duck set to work finishing Tracker's orders. Duck pulled at the walls around them expanding them until she quickly developed a wall tall enough and slick enough to keep the constructs from being able to climb it, at least she hoped they couldn't. _

_ Jensen focused his energy into forming a pit in front of the wall, to make breaching it more difficult. "How long do you need?" _

_ Tracker looked at the zombified constructs coming towards them and did a few mental calculations. "This along with a second diversion behind it should give us enough time to completely exit the system." _

_ "I hope you're right," Jensen said as the first of the forms reached the moat and started to move across it. "Cause they're here already. _

_ Tracker nodded as he launched a flaming torch into the pit and activated the IC within before leading the others deeper into the system. This was going to be tight. _

#

Cougar looked up as the lights flickered and the non-essential equipment chirped to life as they came back on-line only to have the power go out again.

He looked at Martinez, and then back to Jensen and the others.

"What do you think?" Martinez asked worriedly.

"I am thinking I wish I had my Walther MA-2100, or even a Ares Alpha... "

"You think we'll need it?"

Cougar looked around as the lights flickered menacingly. "Yes."

#

_ "What do you think?" Jensen asked as he and Duck finished piling another set of furniture against the portal to the main system. _

_ "I'm thinking we have enough time to get out, but if we get out..." Duck began. _

_ "They'll take over the system and no one on board will be safe," Tracker finished nodding in agreement. _

_ "You two are aware that that's really, really annoying right?" _

_ "What?" Duck asked innocently. _

_ Tracker simply gave Jensen a wolfish grin as if to say 'turn about is fair play.' The grin reminded Jensen enough of Cougar that he just shook his head. _

_ "We're going to have to do something, and soon," Duck stated. _

_ Jensen studied her for a moment and gave Tracker a worried look. Tracker simply nodded in agreement. _

_ It wasn't just people who worked together who knew what the other was thinking... it was also friends with similar concerns. _

_ "Du-ck" Jensen started drawing her name out. _

_ "No." _

_ "You don't even know what I'm going to say." _

_ "Maybe, maybe not, but I know what he's going to say," she objected pointing at Tracker. "And you have the same look in your eyes." _

_ "You're hurt," Tracker reminded her. "Not to mention... kinda naked." _

_ "Been there, done that. Without me you have one less person making obstacles and trying to contain them." _

  
_ Neither man pointed out that it was also meant one more person at risk. They both knew Duck's twisted frame of reference it meant that her staying meant one less chance of either of them getting hurt. _

_ "So quit arguing and work on a solution." _

_ "So... come up with your own... you're the improv genius," Tracker groused. _

>

_ Duck looked at him, gestured towards herself. "I'm not quite feeling myself right now..." _

>

_ Jensen sighed and also picked up her meaning. She and Tracker were used to teaming up on something. Which would leave him free to try to work the real problem: getting out safely, preferably without losing the system. _

_ "Track-er..." _

_ When Tracker's wolf turned and gave him a long suffering look, he smiled. _

_ "When you updated the system... you made a back-up didn't you?" _

_ "Personal files would still... be...Oh...." Tracker smiled. He'd backed up the system, but he'd also established a rollback point for everything affected by the update... and since the update affected every bit of code in the system they had a chance. "The rollback..." _

_ Jensen smiled, nodding in agreement. "The rollback." He'd pegged Tracker as the careful type that meant a full back up followed by a restore point. _

_ A restore would simply restore the system to the way it was before the attack, but it would not replace the corrupted personas and constructs they were now facing. A rollback, however, would remove all the changes since his update... hopefully fixing both the network and the corrupted persona files in one process. _

_ "It's going to take some time and it's not going to happen all at once," Tracker warned. _

_ "How much time do we need?" _

_ "Ten minutes to get the code activated... another ten for it to get through the system... and... we're going to need to be in the main control node." _

_ They surveyed the area and Jensen sighed. _

_ "Getting there isn't the problem," he said nodding towards the node then turned towards the open area before it. Tracker and Duck turned and looked at the mess below. _

_ Standing shoulder to shoulder with his friends, he sighed. "The real problem is going to be keeping them from getting to us..." _

_ As the trio looked out across the central processing area, they saw the zombies touching downed routines and constructs, corrupting them as they went. Occasionally there would be a bright flare as they took out a persona, and most likely the decker behind it. _

_ Duck and Jensen looked at each other and nodded. _

_ "Tracker," Jensen began. _

_ "We're gonna need it in five," Duck finished as she and Jensen stepped off towards the shambling mob and began by putting up a net between them. _

_ "Maybe sooner..." Jensen added as the first zombie hit the net and stumbled back only to be replaced by two more. _

_ Tracker swore as he moved into the Node. "Leave yourselves a clear path here and move when I tell you." _

#

Cougar let his breath out slowly as he studied the team of deckers he was protecting, all the while wondering when things had gotten this messed up. Jensen, who'd had two major surgeries in as many weeks was actually the least 'damaged' of the trio.

According to his chart Tracker had been shot three times with armor piercing rounds and Duck?

At least she had stopped having seizures. He hoped it was a good sign. Martinez had checked on her and she was still breathing. If anything, he said it looked like she was smiling. He watched as Tracker's pulse rate slowed again and the man took three even breaths, much as Cougar had been trained to do before taking a shot.

Something told him the battle was coming to an end.

As he thought that, the lights went out on the ward but the machines were still functioning.

'Jensen,' he thought. 'Now would be a good time for doing whatever it is you're doing...'

#

_ Jensen looked at the central processing area and shook his head. Every controlled process was now converging on their location. "Tracker..." He called without turning around. "Sooner would be better..." _

_ He watched as Duck paused to catch her breath. Between the two of them they'd been putting up barriers, but even as they did the zombie processes would overcome them by sheer numbers, worse, their constructs would then turn and join the mob. _

_ "This," Duck said, her breathing still shaky. "Is so not good... we need..." _

_ She paused, a look of disgust on her face as her latest wall started to close in on them. "We need something they can't take over... something that will... dammit... " shaking her head and staring at Jensen. "You know, for a couple of supposed geniuses we're being really stupid...." _

_ Jensen shook his head. "We're just holding them back..." _

_ "No Jay, we're adding to their numbers... we're solving this like systems people and ops... we're so much more than that..." _

_ Jensen stared at her and snorted. "You're saying instead of meeting like with like... we start reworking the system." _

_ "Nothing fancy... just add some protocols they have to follow until Tracker's ready." _

_ Jensen smiled then started laughing... "I know just the protocol we need...." _

#

_ Tracker worked as quickly as he dared. If he didn't do this right, then the zombie processes would own the system and they would be forced to take the whole computer system down--something that would leave them dead in the water... literally. _

_ He ran a final check and nodded. It wasn't the five minutes Duck asked for but it wasn't the ten he'd estimated. He drew a deep breath, knowing all too well the damage Duck was capable of doing in seven minutes... especially when she was working with someone who was probably her match when it came to insane inspiration. _

_ He exited the node, carefully checking for stray zombies who may have gotten past the duo. When his eyes adjusted to the low light he suddenly noticed that the lights hadn't been turned low as much as colored. _

_ He paused taking another step forward. Duck was standing guard, shooting something that looked like a giant automatic glue gun... with a silencer. He took another step forward as he noticed the zombies were shuffling to the side instead of drawing closer. _

_ And then, to his amazement, he heard... music _

_ It took him a while to recognize the tune: Xavier's Ghost's cover of an old classic from the prior century. He shook his head in disbelief, his eyes narrowing. _

_ "You... did not..." He managed to get out before Duck turned and smiled at him. _

_ "It was on my deck... just figured it added that certain ..." _

_ "No..." _

_ Jensen looked up at Tracker and smiled. "We set up a new protocol all processes that aren't us must go through before passing through the node...” _

_ “For how long?” _

_ “As long as the song plays— and we have it on constant repeat” _

_ Tracker looked at the mob of zombies. "What did you...." _

_ "That many ‘undead’ in one place? What else am I going to? I made them dance." Jensen answered with a proud smile. _

_ "Is that?" Tracker asked in astonished amazement as all the zombies lined up stepping in time to the music, performing a complex, choreographed routine that looked hauntingly familiar. _

_ "As close as I can remember... I haven't seen the video in at least a month..." _

_ Tracker sighed. As much as he hated it... it was working. "Let's get out of here before the song sticks." _

_ "... This is thriller..." Jensen sang as they headed up the ramp into the central node and sealed the gate behind them. _

 

 


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All is once again well with the world... or is it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard disclaimers are still in play - Shadowrun and The Losers belong to their creators - I just thought to bring them together and well...the rest is a saga, isn't it?

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

Cougar's gaze focused on Jensen and the others as the power faded and then came back up to full. To his relief they all showed signs of coming around, but the transition was slower, more somber than he was used to with Jensen.

He was worried until he saw the grin on Jensen's face. The decker smiled at him and carefully started wrapping up his borrowed gear, humming as he did so.

Tracker was next to wake up and his first reaction was to grab his pillow and throw it at Jensen.

He turned knowingly towards Martinez. "I believe... all is well," he commented before focusing on Duck as she sat up and glared at Tracker.

"Tracker... Hon... don't take this wrong... but your idea of 'me' stunts..."

Tracker winced as he slipped his legs over the edge of the bed so he could face her. His expression was one of long suffering expectation.

"How come... I pull a desperate harebrained ... 'me' stunt... I get hurt, but you... You... pull something so stunningly amazingly off the wall it does me proud and I still get hurt? Where is the justice in that?"

He gave her an apologetic look. "It's your schtick... I just borrowed a page from your book."

"Yeah, go ahead and blame me... no one will believe it wasn't my fault anyway," she teased as she held her hand out for help.

As Tracker tried to get up, it became readily apparent he was in no shape to pick up his team mate.

"I got her," Jensen offered as he worked his way off the bed and reached out to help her, quickly picking her up when she started to sag against him. He placed her in the bed he'd been using.

"This is so your fault," Duck announced as she started to drift off to sleep. "You... make a lousy me," she added, waving at Tracker accusingly.

"What!?" Tracker asked.

Jensen shrugged. "Don't feel bad, you make a lousy me too."

When Martinez gave them a confused look, Cougar just looked at him and shook his head.

"Deckers," he explained as if that said it all.

Martinez nodded. There were some things non-deckers were just better off not knowing.

#

Once he felt they had put a sufficient distance between themselves and the suspected trap, Clay signaled a halt. He didn't like the way Casey was moving and the stop proved his suspicions: while Casey had caught her second wind, it didn't change the fact that she was still running on fumes . 'Feeling better' was, after all, a relative term and considering the fact that she had been dead at one point, he had to admit that takes a lot out of you.

He studied the others for a moment and shook his head: they were all walking wounded.

Pooch wasn't doing that much better, but Clay knew what the rigger was capable of, and he knew Pooch would tell him if he needed a rest. Casey seemed reasonable, but he knew a medic in the desert once who was treating five men for heat exhaustion. He got them to the aid station in time, but almost suffered heatstroke from the effort.

No, medics were notorious for ignoring their own injuries in favor of the needs for those of people in their care and, like it or not, she had adopted them as 'hers'. He accepted it as a necessary method of keeping her going, but he also knew she could only push so far.

'Roque: check on Casey, then take a look around make sure we aren't walking into anything.'

He paused, giving Roque a chance to object before turning towards Pooch. 'Check on the rotorcraft, see if we can find a nearby LZ and get to those prisoners.'

Once the others were working, he pulled out his canteen, took a sip and handed it to Casey. "Hydrate," he ordered.

She looked up at him a bemused smile on her face. "That's my line, sir..."

"Clay..." He reminded her.

"Clay."

#

Roque worked as quickly as he dared, checking first on his companions before doing the required scouting. All of them were showing signs of exhaustion and Pooch's leg was hurting him more than he was letting on. Then again, that was obvious enough he didn't even need to look at his teammate's aura, all he had to do was watch the man move.

Casey had continued to improve, but considering the shape she was in when they found her and what they'd been forced to do... what he had been forced to do to her, he was amazed she was still on her feet. Clay's breathing had started to pick up a slight hitch, and judging by the way Casey watched him, she'd noticed it too.

Roque knew he was probably bordering on burn out and spell-drain, but they still had a long ways to go before they were out of this mess. As he checked, he realized several important factors: first and foremost was the fact that he was feeling almost normal, and that simply did not match up with the amount of energy he'd been throwing about lately. This lead to the second realization: instead of being jittery because he was all but standing on a ley line, he was feeling oddly renewed. If anything he felt as if it was recharging him somehow, but he knew that wouldn't last. Finally, there had been no jittery feelings for a long time, because there had been no ley lines here or where the man was being held prisoner.

That did not make sense unless it was indeed a trap. From what they knew of the spell, and what he had witnessed himself, it all but demanded that the sacrifices be on or near the ley lines.

A final scan of the area proved they were the only humans in the area. They had indeed managed to slip past the enemy line. Satisfied, he let his consciousness drift back to the 'real' world and nodded to Clay.

'We're in the clear for now, and you were right about moving on. It was a trap.'

Clay nodded then turned towards Pooch. Hopefully he would find a place for the rotocraft to pick them up.

There were so many ways this could go wrong.

#

Pooch allowed himself to relax into the controls of the rotocraft. Hooked in, he felt no pain and that in and of itself was a relief. He quickly began scanning the area, vectoring the vehicle towards the team all the while trying to keep their location secret. He couldn't have it just b-line towards them. There had to be a c-d and e line along the way.

Too many missions had gone wrong because the evac hadn't been thought out or had been compromised. He surveyed the area and found one clearing that should work, but it was far too easy for the enemy to spot. The second potential landing zone would involve them some serious climbing to get to, but was more secure.

He disconnected: it was really up to Clay.

#

Clay listened to Pooch as he described the possible landing zones, all the while noticing the pained look on the rigger's face. He knew those pain-free minutes spent hooked into the machine's controls had made returning his consciousness to his body that much worse. He patted his shoulder. None of them were in any kind of shape for a climb, but it was their safest bet.

Normally playing it safe wasn't as important but with the rest of the team in danger, safer was better: even if 'safer' meant harder on the team. Hell, the enemy wouldn't be doing their job if they made it easy. When he looked at the others, he chuckled. He could tell they already knew his decision and were steeling themselves up for it.

Pooch simply shrugged. "It is closer," he offered as he stood and shouldered his weapon.

Clay smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Let's go do some rescuing."

#

As they moved further away from the ley lines and the surrounding madness the forest once again seemed alive. Roque found himself relaxing into it and if it weren't for the 'caffeine buzz' he'd gotten from following ley-lines for so long, he'd have been happy, as it was there were too many factors that could affect the outcome of the mission for him to truly be comfortable.

Sometimes you just had to play the hand you were dealt.

One brief exchange of glances with Clay was all it took. They were on the same page, although Clay's version of that page involved a lot less bloodshed then his own, but that was normal.

He signaled a halt when they reached the 'embankment' Pooch had spotted from the air.

"Pooch..." he said looking almost straight up. "If this is what you call an embankment... we either need to work on your vocabulary, or I really don't want to see your idea of a cliff.

#

Clay watched the way Pooch sat down and how quickly Casey moved to help him. The movement lacked Pooch's usual grace and Clay knew from Pooch's expression that the pain meds had worn off.

Once Casey was sure Pooch was as comfortable, she stood, moving closer to Clay.

He watched her as she took one look at the embankment and shook her head.

"Come on Casey," Clay urged teasingly. "After everything you've been through this should be a piece of cake."

Casey looked at him, her expression one of total disbelief. "Clay... I can make that climb. I won't be happy, but I can make it. You might be able to... but one slip and you can kiss the idea breathing without a tube good-bye, but there's no way Pooch is going to make it up there on that leg."

Clay's smile took on an almost impish gleam as Roque joined them.

"What are you smiling about?"Roque asked as he looked around to see if a company of Marines had somehow joined them.

"Casey here says there's no way we're getting Pooch up that hill."

"Hill? Oh, now it's a 'hill?'" Roque grumbled in disbelief. "Don't be surprised if you get a dictionary and thesaurus set for Christmas."

He turned towards Pooch and held out his hand. "Casey," Roque said as he cast a levitation spell on Pooch. "We have ways of getting the job done."

He turned back to Clay. "You however are on your own... I kinda want to see how you deal with a breathing tube..."

Without further comment he began climbing keeping in physical contact with Pooch to keep him weightless.

Clay gestured towards the rock wall as if to say, "we've got it covered."

"Well sure," Casey groused. "If you're going to be all practical about it."

#

Roque moved as quickly as he dared, which wasn't very. He had to keep both a handhold, and contact with Pooch at all times if he was going to keep him levitated. As he worked on his next handhold he sighed.

"What's with the sigh," Pooch asked, knowing all too well what would come next.

"Sorry 'bout this," Roque said as he slung the weightless man over his shoulder.

"Yeah, yeah... just get us up there will ya?"

Roque nodded and continued to climb. He'd gotten about twenty feet further along when the rock he had selected as a handhold came loose. He flailed for a moment, his hand finding a tree root he could have sworn wasn't there a moment before.

"Look out below," he called as an afterthought.

"Uh, yeah... thanks for the warning," he heard Clay grumble aloud as he checked in on their progress on the secure channel. 'You two all right?'

'Yeah,' Roque answered. 'Just watch out for loose rock.'

'Grabbing for it, or it falling on our heads?'

Roque didn't dignify the question with an answer and continued to climb, this time focusing on his surroundings and periphery, especially vines and roots. He was determined not to have another 'uh-oh' moment.

#

Clay forced himself to focus on climbing rather than the woman next to him. She hadn't been kidding when she'd told him she could make it and that meant he needed to focus on getting himself to the top without getting killed, or worse ending up breathing through a tube.

He fell into a rhythm as he climbed having learned from Roque's near fatal slip. Each time he would take a step, he would make sure his footing was secure before looking for the next hold.

While the technique lacked a certain grace. It served him well until he was three quarters of the way up and suddenly discovered there were no handholds in reach. He let his breath out slowly and warned Casey to hold up until he found the next hold. The last thing he wanted to do was fall.

'Second to last thing,' he amended to himself. The last thing he wanted was to fall and take Casey with him. After a few minutes searching he found a likely path and turned towards it. The combination of the strain to reach the next hold, and the twist in his torso caused him to gasp for air.

As he tried to recover he missed his hold and felt himself falling.

#

Roque had reached the top and was helping Pooch to the waiting rotocraft when he heard the sound of rocks falling, and a muffled, 'shit' from Clay on the radio.

He knew Clay was in trouble, but he also knew he had to get Pooch to the craft or it would be over for all of them. He prayed he was right and there was something, or someone looking out for them because he knew there was nothing he could do from his current location.

#

Clay managed to get out one explicative before he felt someone grab a hold of his hand and stop his fall: Casey

He looked up, relief mixed with fear as he saw her shoulder all but pop out of its socket from the force of catching him. Her other arm was tangled around some roots.

"Casey... let go," he urged.

"Clay... keep climbing..." she urged in a determined tone, her words keeping even with her breathing.

  
He knew he had to get his weight off her arm and quickly if she was going to make it. Since she refused the logical solution, he worked on the next best thing.

He quickly scanned the area. "Casey, there's a hold to my left... can you swing me there?"

She let out a pained breath and nodded. "Think... so..."

  
Clay tried to take a deep breath and found he couldn't. He forced his breath into small gasps as he prepared to grab the outcropping to his left.

It took them three swings to get enough momentum for him to make the grab and he could hear what it was doing to Casey.

On the third swing he grabbed onto the rock and refused to let go. To his relief, the rock held.

When he looked up he almost cried. Casey's left arm dangled to her side, obviously dislocated, and her right arm looked as if she had impaled it on a tree branch when she'd tried to catch him.

There was no way she was going to get up the face of the cliff on her own now.

 


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clay, Roque, and Pooch escape the death trap that was made for them and exchange it for one of their own making.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard disclaimers: The Losers, Shadowrun - I don't own them, just two great stories that I thought would work well together.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  
'Clay, talk to me bro... '

Clay could tell by the wording Roque was more than just a little concerned. The man rarely called him anything other than Clay or Colonel, and bro? 'Bro' was saved for when they were drinking or he was fairly certain Clay was going to die or was already dead.

'Still here,' he answered with a cough as he tried to catch his breath. 'But I don't think Casey's going to be climbing out of here." He took another breath and shook his head. 'Me either. There a winch on that thing?'

'We'll lower it as soon as we're airborne,' Pooch assured him. 'Just hang on.'

'Hanging on may be a problem,' Clay answered. 'Don't be too long.'

  
#

  
Once Pooch had settled into the pilot's seat, Roque moved to the winch and slipped into a climbing harness.

"You sure you want to do this?" Pooch asked.

Roque smirked. "Want... not particularly, but since we're a little short on volunteers and the fact that I really don't want to have to break in a new commander: looks like I am the short list."

Despite his answer, Pooch could see the worry in his eyes. "I'll have us up in two," he said swiveling back to the controls and focusing on the job to be done. Sometimes it was easier than weighing the consequences.

As Pooch synced himself to the craft's controls, Roque hooked himself into the winch system. Judging by the breathiness of Clay's answers, and his estimation of Casey's condition, they were both going to need someone to help them.

'We're ready,' he heard Pooch announce over the secure channel as the craft lifted off.

  
#

  
Clay smiled when he heard Pooch's call and turned towards Casey. Even when they'd found her, she had not looked this scared or in pain. He wanted to help her, but there was nothing he could do for her. Nothing he could say, other than, "help's on the way..."

Casey nodded but didn't answer.

"Just hold on," he urged. It was a stupid thing to say he knew but it was the only thing he could think of. After a moment he added. "You want to go out after this is all over?"

The shocked look on her face was priceless.

Clay smiled. "What... no one ever ask you out before?"

Casey shook her head. "Actually you'd be surprised by the number of guys with sucking chest wounds who've asked... Just.. they usually wait until we've got them actually in the chopper."

"Yeah well... Roque and Pooch'll be there and..."

"They don't like your taste in women do they?"

"Not really," Clay admitted.

"That's because the women he usually goes for are the kind that try and shoot him... or blow him up. You know the type: not really good for his health or general wellbeing," Roque explained as he lowered himself between the two so he could look at their injuries.

He studied Casey for a moment then looked at Clay. "Clay, remember what I said about breathing through a tube? You're first..."

Clay tried to wave him off but he wasn't listening. "Casey's safe where she is... and I'll be back down for her as soon as I can get you on board so the sooner you stop arguing the better."

Clay gave Casey a concerned look and she nodded. "Go ahead, you know it takes us girls forever to get ready to leave..."

Roque started to wrap the strap under Clay's arms and then thought better of it. "With the way you're breathing... I think it's going to be better if I levitate you and let the winch reel us in...."

Before Clay could object he did just that. 'Pooch ready with the first lift...'

'Affirmative,' Pooch answered as the winch began lifting them to the waiting chopper.

  
#

As Roque lifted Clay from his precarious perch, Casey turned her attention to her right arm. The left she knew was at the very least dislocated. Judging by the way Clay fell and what she'd had to do to get him to the ledge in the first place, she was fairly certain she'd pulled, if not torn something important in the process. No, what bothered her was the pain radiating from her right forearm.

Looking at the tangle of branch and tendrils that snaked out of the wound she tried to figure out how Roque was going untangle her from it: something she could not do on her own. She had pretty much realized he was going to have to cut it when she felt his shadow over her.

"You're next," he said in a calm voice as he moved closer and gently grabbed her belt.

"You're going to have to cut the branch... under my arm," she said. She was taken aback by the pain and fear in her own voice.

"Casey," Roque sighed as he realized he again couldn't use the rescue sling. "The two of you planned this didn't you?"

She turned away from her arm to look at him as he studied the sling and tossed it over his shoulder. "I'm going to levitate you..."

"Haven't you done that enough today?"

He laughed. "Probably, but there's always at least one more..."

Casey tried to smile but she knew something was very wrong. "There's a branch...? impaled..."

She knew 'impaled' was the wrong word, but there was nothing she could think of that would properly explain or describe what was happening with her arm. She turned back towards the arm, trying to understand what her mind refused to accept.

"Casey," Roque called. "Casey, look at me."

She turned, confused but willing to accept his help.

"Casey... I need you to let go of the ledge."

She shook her head. "My arm's ..."

"Let go..."

She looked at him and suddenly things clicked she let out a slight whimper as she did as he told her. She could feel everything snap back into place. The branch hadn't gone through her arm; it had originated from her arm.

Her breath came in almost panicked gulps.

"What... am... What... kind of..."

"Casey: look at me," Roque urged his voice gentle yet firm. "Look at me!"

He waited until she did and she could see the honesty in his eyes.

"You are the same woman we rescued, you are the same woman who stepped off that chopper to save a friend of mine. You're just a little bit more than any of us figured on."

What she saw was not revulsion, but curiosity and a sense that she had simply confirmed something he knew all along.

"What..."

He closed his eyes and gave her a slow nod. "When we're back on the chopper, we'll talk: just the two of us if you want... trust me... this is not a bad thing..."

She closed her eyes and nodded, trusting him to get them to the chopper, and then hopefully, to stop her world from spiraling out of control.

  
#

Roque quickly got Casey situated then patted Pooch on the shoulder. "Get us out of here. Best route to that cave you were talking about."

Once Pooch complied he came back and checked on Clay before going back to Casey. He smiled at her and sat down. "We don't have all that long to talk. I need to heal you, so you can take care of Clay and whatever passengers we might pick up..."

Casey shook her head. "He needs more immediate care."

Roque rolled his eyes then locked them on Casey. "I can heal one of you and that means the other is in pain or worse. If I heal you, you can take care of Clay. I heal Clay all he can do is smile at you while he plans our rescue mission. It's simple logistics."

When she looked at him, he could see all the hurt and confusion she was trying to deal with. He shook his head and relented slightly. "Casey... you've been through a lot, you were alone for two days in the jungle. You nearly died there."

He paused closing his eyes. "You did die there. I brought you back. And that experience alone is enough to trigger latent abilities. Tons of initiation rituals dating back to the dawn of time center around death and near death experiences, there's a reason for that. It awoke a facet of your nature, nothing more. You are still you. There's just a facet you didn't know about, and since no one detected it until now--it had to be pretty deep and pretty diluted."

"But...what... what happened... what am I?"

"You are Master Sergeant Casey Kaye, a normal human woman. It does however appear that somewhere back in your family, there was someone who was a little more. If I had to guess... I'd say they were a Dryad."

When she started to object he shook his head. "Look, Casey. I like you. You've been nothing but a friend to us from the start--I have to ask you to just trust me on this for now. You are still the same woman you were before... and I'm counting on that woman taking charge after this, okay?"

When she finally nodded, he smiled. There was no time for him to go fully formal when it came to healing but he didn't really need to. He took his knife and cut a small nick in his wrist, trusting the magical circles he'd worked into the hovercraft to protect them from outside influences.

He watched as his blood pooled out of the wound. Closing his eyes so all he saw was the energy, he kept his wrist facing up and drew the sigils he needed. Crimson turned to silver energy as he made the signs of healing then broke them over Casey. He could see her muted aura revive and heard the wince as her shoulder popped back into place.

He smiled as she sighed in relief, and he felt her hands guide him gently to a seat as he succumbed to the full drain from his spell.

  
#

Casey almost missed the change as Roque slipped from healer to patient. She reacted without thinking, catching him before he fell and hurt himself. She winced, expecting pain to radiate down her arm, but her shoulder only twinged slightly. If anything it was the memory of pain rather than actual pain.

Satisfied that Roque was secure and resting she turned her attention to Clay. She could tell by the way he sat there, and the sad eyed look he gave her that he was actually feeling the pain and welcomed anything she could do for him.

She gently stroked his forehead as she checked on his ribs and the seal and let her breath out slowly. She continued her exam, her touch a little more familiar than she would use on a patient she'd just met, a combination of medic and friend; comforting and prodding.

"Clay," she said softly. "It's looking like you have some fluid building up... we need to get you to..."

"Casey, listen to me: If we don't do this... if we don't stop what's happening out here, there's going to be no primary care to get me to. You do what you have to do to keep me upright and mobile."

Casey shook her head, wondering when delirium had settled in.

Clay looked at her, a sudden look of understanding and a tired smile coming to his face. "Pooch... playback Jensen's message for Casey..."

Casey looked expectantly towards the pilot. A moment later she had her answer.

She felt a shiver run through her, a combination of anger and something more: the need to protect. She let her breath out slowly, hating to do a patch job rather than proper care, knowing the risk it put Clay in and knowing the risk they were all in if she didn't.

Sometimes she hated being a medic.

  
#

Even as Casey worked on him, Clay's mind shifted to the mission at hand. The fact they had made it as far as they had meant nothing if they couldn't stop the ritual and the first step in stopping the ritual was freeing the prisoners.

Resources were at a premium and he knew it. He had started out with a simple mission, find and rescue a missing medic. He had the medic now, but he also had a new mission: stop the ritual from happening. That sounded simple enough but when your team of five started off two men down, and now the remaining three were in varying degrees of injured things tended to get interesting.

Clay hated interesting but he was good at it. It was why the Losers were still around. If they could save the prisoners it would hopefully give them more people to work with to accomplish the main objective. The problem was rescuing the prisoners with three men in varying degrees of 'injured.'

At least they had a medic they could rely on for afterward. He just had to make sure there was an afterward.

"Clay," Casey called pulling him out of his planning. "I need you to take a deep breath...."

Clay was surprised as he cautiously did as she'd asked and found he could breathe a little deeper. He looked at her questioningly.

She gave him a worried look, but smiled. "It's an experimental procedure I read about... It'll keep you going but we really, really need to get you looked at and soon."

"Let's hope there's a mage in the group we're rescuing that can help," he answered forcing some cheer into his voice. If nothing else they had gotten Casey away from the death trap where she'd been held.

Casey's forced smile told him what he needed to know. They were all in a world of trouble.

  
#

Pooch watched as Casey worked on Clay. The Colonel was definitely in worse shape after his fall, but thankfully he was still breathing and Pooch knew better than to write off his CO. Knowing Clay, he was already working on a way to use his injuries to their advantage.

It was hard not to notice the gentle way Casey's hand lingered on Clay's forehead as she worked, nope, it seemed she was as smitten as Clay was. He hoped things worked out because Clay needed a woman who could stand up to him and not try and kill him, and Casey seemed to have that.

  
#

Clay continued to mull over the possibilities and was pulled out of his thoughts as he heard someone pull the slide on one of the rifles. He looked up figuring that Roque was up and they could go over a few things.

He froze, transfixed as Casey checked the weapon out and verified its functionality.

"Casey... what are you doing?" he asked concern softening the brusqueness of the question.

Casey looked up from the rifle her expression one of simple acceptance. "Familiarizing myself with my weapon."

He realized he must have still had his mouth open when she tilted her head. "I am a soldier," she reminded him.

"You're also a conscientious objector. This is neither conscientious nor objecting..."

"This isn't war," she pointed out. "This is protecting your own."

Clay frowned. "You're not going to..."

"I have fired in the field," she assured him. "sometimes the only way to do my job is to stop those people who are trying to stop me from doing it. Like I said, what's happening here is not war. I'm good."

Clay nodded reevaluating Casey and the situation. They had 4 fighters all injured to varying degrees. It was a small difference, but it was a difference he could work with.


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Losers really need a dictionary... and a thesaurus ...

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  
Once he had the flight path planned out, Pooch set course and then activated his connection to the surveillance drone.

"Clay, I've routed the video feeds from the Mark IV to your Pocket Secretary. I should have topographical information for you shortly from the nav system."

Clay smiled, knowing what Pooch had done bordered on the cross over between decking and rigging. Routing the images to his PDA on the other hand, was entirely a Jensen trick. "Thanks."

"Let me know if you need anything else."

"Just an ETA, and a thermo scan of the area before we land."

"Twenty minutes, and you'll have the scan in fifteen."

 #

Clay studied the information Pooch had forwarded to his Pocket Secretary. He tapped the screen with his stylus as he switched between the remote's feed and the topography. He could almost pretend it was a mission like any other... where Jensen was up in the cockpit with Pooch, and the person cleaning their gun, preparing for the mission was Cougar but he knew it wasn't, and no matter how good Casey was after the battle, having her in the battle was going to be something significantly less than Cougar.

He looked over at Roque and knew he'd have to wake him up in a few minutes if he wanted the mage to be able to do more than glower at the enemy. Then again, the man did have a very intimidating scowl, it might not stop the enemy, but it would definitely make them think twice.

As if he sensed Clay's thought, Roque lifted his head and gave him a raised eyebrow. "Clay... stop smiling so loudly... I'd hate to have to come over there and undo all of Casey's work..."

Roque's voice sounded enough like someone suffering a hangover that Clay chuckled. "Got topo and video feeds," he added handing pocket secretary to Roque.

Roque studied the lay of the land and the feed from the remote.

"Oh... joy," he said without any enthusiasm. "Three guarding the mouth of the cave, a swivel mounted machine gun to cover them or anyone coming for them, and no way of knowing how many of their friends are still hanging around."

Roque paused to study the images again before turning back to Clay. "You got a plan?"

Clay smiled. "Do I have a plan?" He asked a dangerous smile on his face. "I was thinking we walk in."

"And what? Hope they they'll just give up when they see us?"

Clay looked at him a minute before answering, "Always a first time..."

"And when they start shooting?"

"Then you drop the illusion, Pooch makes a strafing run once they've announced their intentions while Casey and I get into position."

Roque looked almost impressed until Clay mentioned Casey. "Casey??? You want to take a Conscientious Objector into a combat situation as a fighter?"

Clay nodded to where Casey was finishing up with the rifle she'd picked up. "I make it a point never to tell an armed woman where she can and can't go."

"Since when?" Roque asked derisively. "And, please tell me this is her idea."

"It's her idea," Clay assured him. While he didn't entirely agree with it, it was her decision to make.

#

 

As they neared the cave, Pooch accessed the controls on the surveillance drone and switched from optical observation to thermal. As he processed the images, he adjusted the analysis software to look for the energy signature of the stealth suits and highlight them in bright green with an orange halo so everyone but a color blind koala would be sure and see them.

He was not taking any chances. Once the algorithm went live, he started streaming the feeds from the remote to Clay's pocket secretary. The rest would be up to him.

  
#

 

Clay was about to ask about the thermal scans when they arrived. He sat there scrolling between thermal, topographical and video, before finally overlaying them all. He chuckled slightly at Pooch's highlighting job in colors even Jensen would agree qualified as 'angry fruit salad.'

Reviewing the lay of the land, he fed the display to the tactical board where Roque and Casey could see it. When he was sure he had their attention he began his briefing.

"I think you'll both agree, in our current state, we're going to have to hit hard and fast. There is no way we're going to survive a sustained fight. That means we're going to need a surgical strike. Casey, you'll be with me. I give you an order, even if it's counterintuitive, we need you to do it immediately, Copy?"

He was pleased when she simply nodded and stated. "This situation… you're the doc."

It wasn't military, but he understood. Doc outranked medic and had the final say.

"Okay. Pooch," he said, knowing the rigger was listening in from the cockpit. "You're going to find a good drop point, a good cover point and a rendezvous point. You drop us... wait for the signal and do a strafing run north to south, retreat to cover point until we're out then pick us up at the rendezvous point. Copy?"

"Copy that."

Clay sighed. "That leaves you and me for the fun stuff," Clay told Roque.

"Any of your friends still around?"

Roque closed his eyes for a moment, feeling an almost emptiness inside. He was close to burning himself out, but he pushed on. Lives were depending on him. He had never held back before and he wasn't about to start. He'd made a promise, if only to himself to get Casey home safely and that was exactly what he was going to do.

After a few moments searching he sighed and shook his head. "Seems they got sent home. Means I have to summon them again and that takes too much time and even if we had the time, I’d need a lot of energy I just don't have."

Clay nodded. "Then we do this the old fashioned way..."

#

Once Pooch touched down, Clay, Roque and Casey disembarked and headed to their agreed upon positions. Clay knew that the chances of things going exactly as planned were something best not discussed but at least there was a plan, and they had to start somewhere.

The rest was reaction and adaptation.

  
#

Roque gave Casey what he hoped was an encouraging smile before moving ahead to start work on the distraction. The woman had a lot of things to think about and he hoped that once the action began, she wouldn't have time to think.

Contrary to what most of his teachers had ever taught him, sometimes it was better to just react.

  
#

Pooch continued to scan the area, trying not to count the number of ways this thing could go sideways. He knew Roque and Clay could take care of themselves but Casey was... well, she wasn't a civilian but she wasn't exactly a soldier either.

He trusted her not to shoot Clay in the back and that in and of itself was refreshing, but this wasn't the time or the place to be worrying about the kind of trouble Clay's love life tended to buy them.

This was its own, very deadly, extremely dangerous kind of trouble, the kind the Losers had trained to deal with and they would deal with it. But they were injured and two men down. One medic, no matter now talented couldn't replace one of their team, let alone take up the amount of slack they now had.

He knew somehow Clay was using that to their advantage but he'd be damned if he knew how. He did know that if Clay got Casey hurt, or worse killed he would probably shoot Clay himself.

He also knew he'd have to stand in line.

  
#

Clay wasn't exactly sure when things had started to go wrong. It may have been when Roque had started his distraction only to be shot in the back, or when the swivel-mounted machine gun managed to clip the rotorcraft's tail as Pooch did his strafing run. He'd watched the craft spiral down spitting smoke and felt the shockwave of a distant explosion. Then there was silence.

He nodded to himself, not liking what was coming and knowing there was very little he could do about it.

"Casey," he said in a very low voice. "I know it's not really like you, but I really need you to get hysterical. The more panic-stricken out of control hysterics the better."

To her credit she gave him a baffled, vaguely insulted look before screaming at the top of her lungs and pummeling him ineffectively with her fists.

Oh yeah, this was going to be one for the records.

  
#

Casey was still beating on his chest when the soldiers surrounded them. When she started to react, Clay grabbed her hands and continued to move as if he was still resisting her blows, trying to calm her down. When she saw his expression her eyes narrowed and she continued to beat his chest.

"How... could... NO!!!" she babbled incoherently not sure where this was leading but thankfully taking her cues from him.

"Casey... Casey... you need to..." He stopped as if he finally noticed the soldiers. They were laughing, their guard down when they saw that he had slung his rifle over his shoulder as he dealt with the distraught Master Sergeant.

'Now.'

  
#

Roque let his breath out slowly thankful for the talisman he'd created and maintained since the day he joined the army. He was fairly certain that if it weren't for the magic woven into it, the sniper's shot would have killed him.

As it was he could still feel the impact where it had punched him to the ground even as he closed in on Clay and Casey and the men he hoped had been drawn by the display. All things considered he hadn't thought Casey had it in her.

As he prepared the spell and the shielded area in the center he had to smile. The soldiers were so busy laughing at Clay's expense that they had all been drawn into the open. So sure of themselves, they never saw it coming.

He drew on the power around him, feeling it sing in his veins. He drew it towards him and formed it, allowing it to coil around him like a snake ready to strike.

When Clay signaled, he pushed the energy through his surroundings, moving as if he were performing an intricate Tai Chi form he wrapped the energy around them and pushed.

  
#

As soon as he gave the order Clay reacted without thinking, wrapping his arms around Casey and pulling her to the ground, covering her with his own body as Roque's spell took effect.

He let out a small cough as the action aggravated his injuries. When Casey started to move he whispered in her ear. "We stay here until Roque gives the all clear."

"You're hurt," Casey reminded him.

"Yeah, and I'll be hurt worse if anything happens to you. We wait."

  
#

Roque waited knowing all too well that someone might have managed to protect themselves, or managed to avoid his attack. Hell all they had to do was step out from the circle they'd created and he'd have missed them. When no one moved, he radioed Pooch.

'Pooch, we got any more trouble on the screen?'

He was worried by Pooch's tone when he answered, 'No, nothing on the screen...'

'What happened?'

'Let's just say the injured bird was not an act and setting her down without exploding something for real was ... interesting.'

'Clay?'

'I heard. Let's get the prisoners out and moving. Pooch, can you fix it?'

'Can I fix it?' Pooch asked in disbelief. 'I'll see what I can do, but I'm not making any guarantees.

'We'll rendezvous at your location, stand-by'

  
#

"Can I fix it?," Pooch muttered to himself as he inspected the damaged craft. "Standing-by."

He shook his head as he took stock of the damage and the tell-tale traces of hydraulic fluid. They'd nicked the tail rotor by less than 2 cm, but they'd clipped the line and that had almost been as bad.

If he'd stayed airborne a minute longer than he had, he would have lost all control and that would have been it.

As it was they were lucky. He reached for his duct tape, hoping that luck held. They were going to need it.

Finally he sighed, and notified the others. 'Maybe.'

  
#

Clay gave Roque a long suffering 'it's never easy' smile when he heard Pooch's answer. 'Maybe' meant they should probably look for alternative transportation but there was still a chance. It was something to work with.

He nodded and stood, offering Casey a hand up. An offer she flatly refused preferring instead to stand on her own and scowl at him for a moment before examining his wounds.

"So... sub-vocal on the comms?" she asked as she prodded around his injury and checked the valve.

"Yeah," he said trying not to wince and failed.

"You can't keep up like this," she warned.

"For as long as I have to... I will," he assured her, then nodded towards the cave. "If we're lucky one of the folks in a mage hood will be able to help us."

"If it hasn't driven them insane," Roque added, his tone full of disgust. He knelt between the injured taking their weapons and applying a tranq patch to each of them. When he finished he nodded.

"If you two are done playing doctor, we got work to do," he added as he walked by heading for the cave.

"You'll have to excuse Roque he's..." Clay paused for a moment searching for the right word.

"He's right," Casey said as she unslung her rifle and followed. "We need to get the prisoners and get out of here.

"Right," Clay repeated with a shrug as he watched her leave.

  
#

As they neared the cave, Clay couldn't help but notice the sense of wrongness around them. The guards wouldn't have abandoned their posts.

'Roque... hang back... this is wrong.'

'What are you thinking?' Roque asked as he stopped on the pretense of surveying the area.

'Guards wouldn't have abandoned their posts... either the team you took out got a warning out, which granted is unlikely, or their not reporting in has had the same effect.'

'Yeah. How do you want to play this?'

Clay sighed as he slipped ahead of Roque. 'Cover me... protect our girl. This goes south, rendezvous with Pooch and get her out of here.'

  
#

When Clay passed them, Roque saw Casey's eyes narrow.

'She knows something's up,' he warned.

'Of course she does, she's not stupid.' Clay answered as he shouldered his rifle and moved forward. 'We just don't have time to explain what we do--'

'I know that... but you're going to have to explain that when this is over.'

There was a pause as he studied their surroundings, letting his mind slip enough into the other realms that he could sense the presence of others.

'They're in the woods. They should be able to see you. They're waiting for us to break cover, but two are moving in around behind us.'

  
#

Clay let his breath out slowly only to feel it catch in his chest. He had to pause to keep himself from taking himself out with a coughing fit.

For the life of him he couldn't see a clean way out of this, but they were in too deep and they needed to get to the people in the cave if they were going to have a chance of pulling this off.

He took another two steps and froze as he heard the all too familiar 'click' of a pressure sensitive switch under his foot.


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who rescues the rescuers? If you're a Loser... you do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Standard disclaimers are still and always in play. This is fan fiction. WB/DC/et al - (and FASA/WizKids etc) - don't own them, just two great tastes that work together

**CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE**

  
  


Roque was about to move forward when he heard Clay over the comm.

'Roque.. we've got a problem... get Casey out of here.'

'Talk to me,' he urged as he signaled Casey to stop.

'Something just went click underneath me.'

'Tell me it's not what I think it is..'

He could almost hear Clay's chuckle as he checked their surroundings. 'Yep... pressure sensitive switch... looks to be one in a four line deployment. '

'Now you notice the deployment?'

'Yeah well... now I have nothing but time to sit here and look.'

'You're still alive so, what? Misfire?'

'We both know I'm not that lucky. '

'Yeah, knowing you we're probably looking at a Bouncing Betty.'

'I need you to get Casey out of here.'

'We can...'

'What Roque? Risk both your lives and leave Pooch out there? You can watch me die or you can get out of here. Now do it. That's an order.'

Roque was about to tell him exactly where he could put his order when he heard someone move behind him.

"Hold it right there," he heard a man order them.

'No can do boss,' he sub-vocalized as he raised his hands and turned.

'Roque this is not the time to start bucking my authority.'

'It's not your orders I'm worrying about disobeying right now, but the guys with guns seem to have countermanded your orders. '

'Shit.'

'Yeah. See you shortly.'

Roque took one look at the man who'd ordered him to stay and blanched.

The man smiled as he held out a mage mask, and carefully aimed his weapon on Casey's head. "If you'll be so kind."

#

Years of working together had told Clay what to expect, Roque would comply with the orders until he saw his opening. Then he would lash out with whatever magic he had left to take out the threat, trusting Clay to deal with the mine and then he saw the men entering the clearing.

Their weapons were trained on Roque and Casey. He let out a low growl when he saw the mage hood draped over Roque's head, his fingers carefully bound together for good measure. He knew from training that the hood included a trach-tube to keep him from making a sound, sub-vocal or otherwise effectively cutting of a mage or shaman from what he needed to cast a spell or invoke the spirits.

He tried to give Casey an encouraging smile, but it faltered when he saw the hope in her eyes die.

His smile faded it but it was replaced with something far more dangerous, and Casey responded to it. He nodded. They'd find a way out of this.

#

Roque was reeling. Ever since his powers had manifest, aside from a few training exercises and one very real feeling interrogation session, he had always been aware of the power as it sung around him. He had experienced being cut off from the power, both by physical means, such as the hood and the chemical equivalents and he had endured: barely.

For now his world was darkness, muted orders and the feel of Casey's shoulder against his arm, guiding him... grounding him. He had that, and it would do for now.

When they ordered him to move, he stumbled slightly into Casey before regaining his balance. The last thing he wanted was to give them an excuse to break out the prods he'd seen them use. He knew Casey wouldn't survive that, at least not with her sanity intact and he was not going to take any chances when it came to his charge. His guide.

He stumbled forward, relying on Casey to guide them until he finally felt himself being shoved into a cave and dragged away from Casey.

For the first time since he had awakened, Roque prayed.

#

Casey tried not to panic as they were herded into the cave and she was separated from Roque. A chain that was anchored to the cave wall was linked to her handcuffs giving her less than three feet of movement.

She tried to convince herself it wasn't as bad as the collar but she knew all too well that if they stayed here, she'd be back in some clearing with the collar around her neck. If he was lucky, Clay would suffer the same fate.

Something told her that Roque would not last that long.

She had to do something and soon. She turned in time to see two men running a chain between Roque's bindings as well.

"Roque, hold on... just... hold on..." she urged, hoping he could hear her.

One of the guards turned, flicking on a stun baton. He smiled at her before hitting Roque with it.

Casey screamed in rage, everything seeming to glow around her. When the guard turned the baton on her she was completely unaware of it.

#

Roque focused on Casey's voice as she urged him to hold on. He realized that while she wasn't a mage, she knew what it was like to be cut off from everything she knew. Her captivity was similar enough to the mage hood that she knew the risks of comforting him and she also knew the risks of leaving him drifting. It was a chance, and she took it anyway.

When the charge hit him he was prepared for it. Bound and blind there was no way for him to access the magic energy he needed to fight them, but by transmuting the energy he was at least able to route it through his system in a slightly less harmful way. Instead of electrical damage it became more like drinking seven shots of espresso at once. It wasn't a good feeling, but it was better than the pain they wanted him to experience.

Then he heard Casey's scream.

He felt the echoing scream of rage stopped by the mage hood.

  
Denied his magic, he lashed out physically but his captors were nowhere in range.

"CALM DOWN," Heard one of his captors command, then added. "Calm down soldier or your friend will suffer the consequences."

Roque shook his head trying to fight it down and contain it before they used it as an excuse to hurt Casey more.

'Roque,' he heard Clay call over the comm. 'Roque! Listen to me. We'll get out of this, but I need you to take it easy... do you hear me?'

"Do you understand me?" the guard demanded.

Roque finally nodded as calmly as he could.

>

And then the screams began in earnest.

#

Clay stood there seething as he watched the guards take Roque and Casey to their holding area. He tried to keep his breathing calm, but he'd seen what they'd done to their prisoners, hell Casey had lived that nightmare once already, the last thing she needed was more of the same.

Then he heard her: he couldn't make out the words, but he heard the tone in her voice... soothing, encouraging. If he hadn't liked her before he loved her now. He knew she would do everything she could to help see Roque through this.

He allowed himself to relax and focus on his own situation when he heard the sound of his second in command in pain, and Casey's echoing cry. It took everything he had not to move. The guards just laughed, watching him as he stood there shaking with rage.

'Roque,' he called over the comm. 'Roque! Listen to me. We'll get out of this, but I need you to take it easy... do you hear me?'

He held his breath as he heard a faint click over the comm, then the screaming started in earnest

'Roque?? Roque, talk to me.'

#

He could hear the tension in Clay's voice but there was nothing he could tell him, not really. He knew giving up wasn't an option so he focused on the sounds. He didn't hear Casey's voice in the ensuing madness, but that wasn't really much of a comfort.

He managed to transmit a click and let himself relax slightly. If he could transmit a click...? he could communicate.

'Do not know. Blind,' he reminded Clay in Morse Code.

He tried to keep his breathing calm but having his major senses blocked there was nothing he could do but wait... wait and listen.

#

Clay swallowed as the screaming died out. He knew he wasn't going to like what happened next, but from where he stood there was very little he could do.

'More guards are moving in,' he warned Roque. There was something about the way they moved that made him smile. They were afraid.

'Whatever you're doing,' he radioed. 'Keep doing it...'

#

Roque was still trying to translate Clay's last message when he felt something brush against his mask. He fought back a sense of dread as he focused on what he could feel, when he felt it again, he leaned into whatever it was and used it to try and pry the mask off.

  
To his surprise whatever it was grabbed onto the mask and held it tight. With a determined growl he pulled away trying to leave the mask behind.

As he fought he sensed the new arrivals and then the shooting started.

He knew they were running out of time and worked that much more frantically. He was not going out this way... gunned down when he was helpless, not if he could help it.

#

Casey fought back a surge of panic as her world shifted around her. The pain from the stun baton was quickly replaced with a different pain... a pain that felt somehow familiar.

She opened her eyes and smiled when she saw her captors tangled up in branches and roots... branches and roots she realized were coming from her. She sensed the fear and confusion around her, but quickly focused on Roque. She knew there was only so much she could do alone. She needed help, and help came in the form of Roque.

She reached out to him, focusing on being as gentle as possible. It was as if her feelings towards Roque translated into a less... deadly reaction. She moved tentatively, afraid of hurting Roque more than he'd already been hurt.

Her movements were slow and cautious until she felt Roque press against the extended root then she let the runners grab a hold of the mask. When she felt him pull away she held the mask tight, her grip on the guards tightening as well.

When the shooting started she screamed.

#

Clay froze as the shooting started and he heard Casey scream. The pain in her voice made him want to run to her, but he knew that would only get him killed that much faster. And so he was forced to listen to the sound of a massacre... his friends lost amid the sounds of death and then silence.

He was afraid of the answer, but he knew he had to ask. 'Roque'

#

Roque pulled at the mask, finally feeling it give. Another, more determined yank and it was half off. He knew the next part would be the hard part: getting the trach-tube out.

He steeled himself for what was to come and pulled for all he was worth.

#

Casey whimpered slightly as she struggled to hold on long enough for Roque to free himself from the mask. It took every bit of energy she had left to keep hold of the mask. She didn't dare pull it for fear of hurting the mage, but she also knew what being isolated felt like.

As she held on she felt her grip on the guards tighten further. She forced herself not to look at the other captives and focus on Roque alone. The last thing she needed was another glimpse at their horror stricken faces.

#

Roque winced as he scratched his face slightly on the root that held the mask as he tried to work his way free. He could now see that it was indeed a root and he knew if he followed it, it would lead him straight to Casey.

He heard her as he slipped the mask off the rest of the way and felt the tube scrape his throat. His hands were still bound in front of him, but at least he could see and feel the world around him.

When he looked at Casey his shoulders sagged.

'We're alive Clay,' he answered, his voice hoarse from the tube. 'Going to take us a bit to get it together... '

He paused. 'Any more trouble from outside?'

'Nobody's moving and they haven't shot me yet...'

'Well... that could be a good sign.'


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life in the military can be interesting at times, but in the awakened world 'interesting' is an understatement.

#

Clay looked at his feet and shook his head. "I'm guessing they figure I'm done for." He looked around and carefully pulled out his pocket secretary. Switching to the IR feed he found nothing moving. Even the angry blobs of green were still.

'No sign of trouble,' he added.

'Clay, you're standing on a land-mine. Casey's been,' he paused trying to think of a word to describe Casey's state. 'Let's just call it traumatized and I'm still tied up. I think trouble's been and gone.'

'Pooch,' Clay called activating the private channel to their rigger. 'How are the repairs going?'

'Well, if you want a very expensive paperweight we're good. If, however, you want us to fly out of here... It's going to take a while.'

'How long?'

'Hour at least.'

'It'll take us at least this long to get out of here.'

'Problems?'

Clay looked at his feet and sighed. 'You could say that.'

'I can do a patch job, enough to get me there,' Pooch offered. 

Clay thought about it for a few moments and nodded. 'Do it.'

'Be there in fifteen,' Pooch assured him. 'Twenty at the outside.'

#

Roque focused on his hands, trying to wiggle out of the bindings but the harder he tried the tighter they grew. As his hands grew numb, he gave up and turned back to Casey.

"Casey, I can't work my hands free," he stated plainly. "I'm going to need your help."

Casey looked at him and shook her head. "I don't have that kind of control...." she said in a very soft voice.

Roque smiled. "Casey, you don't need control for this," he assured her. "I need you to break the chain on your handcuffs. Then you can walk over here and untie me."

She looked at him and then at the morass of roots and runners.

"It's okay," he assured her, nodding encouraging. "Just let go."

Casey shot him a worried look. "What about the guards?"

Roque looked at the guards and at the bullet holes riddling the roots that held then in place. "They aren't going to be a problem," he assured her. His voice was rough and talking hurt, but he couldn't think of another way of getting Casey through this.

"I..."

"Casey. Look at me. You held them in place, their friends came in firing indiscriminately. You protected the hostages. Now, you're hurt and we aren't out of this yet. I need you to trust me. What was you said to Clay? He's the doc, right?"

He felt slightly relieved when she nodded, but the jerkiness of the movement was worrisome. "Okay. I'm Clay's SIC. That means you listen to me until we get him out of trouble. Okay?"

She nodded and closed her eyes as she tried to 'let go.' He watched, willing her to relax, but he had seen the near panic in her eyes as she tried to control something she barely understood. He looked at the cave and shook his head. If this was what she could do without understanding her gift, he hated to think what she could do with training.

"That's it Casey," he called soothingly. "You're doing fine. Just relax. Let go, we're all safe but we have to get out of here."

Again Casey nodded, relaxing a little more until finally the vines and roots dropped to the ground. Some of them retreated into the walls while others flowed back into Casey. He smiled proudly.

"That's it..."

#

Casey opened her eyes slightly, afraid of what she'd see. The first thing she saw was Roque, a proud, almost feral grin on his lips.

She gave him a shy smile but a quick look at the others was almost her undoing. All she saw was the disparaging looks they gave her before looking away. She was a freak: something useful, but still a freak.

She swallowed and focused on the chains to her cuffs. 

When nothing happened she looked to Roque.

#

Despite himself, Roque wanted to throttle the people they were trying to rescue. After all Casey had done for them, after all she had risked and they couldn't be bothered to even be concerned about her. Shaking his head he turned back to her, letting his true emotions show.

He nodded, his expression saying it all: 'You are the same woman you were when you gave up your seat for my teammate.'

She nodded. "Tell me what to do."

"Casey, I can give you pointers, but you're going to have to find it within yourself. Different magics say that power is derived from the properties of those things around them. Water erodes rocks: Roots grow deep, searching for the purest water they force their way through ground penetrating rock with green shoots where people armed with shovels would fail. What you are calling on is nature: your nature."

#

Casey listened to him, thinking about what he'd said, letting his voice soothe her frazzled nerves and help her relax. She focused on the handcuff chain. All she had to do was break one link.

She shifted as she tried to reach the links, and somehow force them apart.

Finally she felt something shift through her hands and settle between the links of the chains. She thought about chains and how to break them. Her choices were twisting, bending or stretching. She realized that the first two options would require two points of pressure, but forcing the links outward would only require slipping something into the middle and ... letting it... grow bigger.

As she worked it, she felt the weight on her wrists grow until suddenly the link gave way. She felt dizzy from the effort but forced herself to focus on getting Rouqe free. Once he was free, then she could go to pieces. No: once Roque was free and they rescued Clay: then she could go to pieces.

She forced herself to focus and moved towards the fallen guards.

#

Roque watched as Casey applied what he'd told her and found a way to use the information. When she turned her attention towards the fallen guards he grew worried.

"Casey, there's nothing you can do for them," he said softly, his throat aching.

He watched as she pulled a knife off of one of the guard's belts and rifled through his pockets. "Nothing I can do for them... but something they can do for us," she said holding up a handcuff key.

#

Pooch studied the damage, working out which repairs could wait and which couldn't. There was a lot of damage, but the fact that Clay wanted him back told him that things were secure but not good.

He paused then clicked his comm. over to the private channel for Roque.

'Roque,' he subvocalized as he pulled out some gorilla tape and wound it around the jagged edges near the fuel line. 'What isn't Clay telling me?'

'He called you?'

'Yeah, I offered to hop there and do the rest of the repairs once I landed. He said it was going to take some time to get out of your current situation?'

He could almost hear Roque roll his eyes as he answered. 'Just Clay's usual ability to understate a situation."

Pooch sighed, waiting for the ax to fall.

'We've got the guards taken care of, although not the way we planned. Casey and I are in the cave, working on getting loose and,' Roque paused, and Pooch knew he was trying to figure out how to best describe Clay's situation. He knew Roque's reluctance to continue meant it was bad.

'And...' he prompted.

'Clay's standing on the pressure trigger for a land mine: quite probably a Bouncing Betty.'

'Frag.'

'I think he'd rather fragmentation right about now. But yeah.'

'I'll be there shortly.'

Pooch cut off any further comms, knowing he had to focus on the job at hand if he was going to do it right. His team needed him, but they needed him in one piece.

#

Roque smiled as Casey carefully cut him free. She may have lacked control when it came to her newfound abilities but she had perfect control when it came to the knife. She handled the blade with the practiced ease of a medic.

While she worked on his hands, another prisoner released the others from their handcuffs who in turn began arming themselves. 

"We're going to need to be careful," he warned them. "They've mined the approach to the cave. We have one man outside standing watch, sort of. "

Surveying the others he grouped them by their actions. Out of the seven prisoners, there were two being held on his side of the cave, both masked and their hands bound, two who judging by their data jacks were either riggers or deckers, one chromed cybered warrior, and two rather normal looking men. Given what the spirit had told him, one of them was, more likely than not, a Physical Adept.

"I'm Roque," he said introducing himself then nodding to Casey as she finished freeing his hands. "This here is Casey.

As one of the prisoners was released, he made a b-line for one of the other mages. 

"Easy," Roque warned. "How long have they been hooded?"

"They took us about twelve hours ago," the man answered, nodding towards the mage next to Roque. "I'm Nick, this is Mike, my spotter."

Roque nodded. This was not going to be pretty.

#

Clay watched the surrounding area and compared it to the feed on his pocked secretary. He knew Roque was working as quickly as he could, but he also knew he wasn't going to be able to stand in one place for all that long.

That was especially true if the tranqed squad started to wake up, or reinforcements arrived.

'Roque,' he called over the comm. line. 'Talk to me.'

#

'Clay, how long have we known each other?' Roque asked over the secure channel as he did his best to connect and ground the hooded mages and talk Casey through the process of removing the devices. He knew it didn't matter who'd been in the mask longer, all that mattered to any mage who'd ever been hooded was getting it off as soon as possible.

'What... ten years?' He heard Clay reply. "Okay," he added translating Roque's question into an answer. 

While Clay figured things out, Roque continued to talk to the mages, trying to get through to them. "It's going to be bright, and noisy, but you'll be out of the hoods, we just have to work this slowly."

Roque made sure Casey was watching him as he stepped through the procedure and smiled when she followed along.

'And you pick now to pull a Jensen on me?" Roque added before he clicked the radio over to voice activated and let Clay hear his side of what was going on. It was a risk, but at least he wouldn't have to split his attention.

"Casey, the next step," he paused trying to figure out the best way to describe the procedure. "Have you ever removed a trache-tube?"

"Removed? No. I'm usually the one putting it in."

He nodded. "It's the same thing only in reverse, you want to make sure you avoid the vocal chords."

He could see she wanted to object, to tell him these weren't the ideal circumstances, but his look silenced her and she nodded and asked him, "anything else?"

"He's going to be disoriented and more likely than not combative. You have to expect that and just ... "

"Be prepared to duck?"

"Pretty much."

#

Clay wasn't exactly sure what Roque meant by 'pulling a Jensen.' There were so many possibilities. Jensen hated standing still, hated silence: which was the connotation he figured Roque meant. Then there was the creative genius side that would be working his way out of whatever he was in or forestalling it, buying the others time to get into place.

Somehow he doubted that was what he meant. Then there was the final possibility which simply translated into "You're being a pain in the ass."

That sounded more like Roque.

#

Roque watched as Casey let her breath out slowly, and nodded. She was ready.

He took a hold of the mouthpiece and allowed his focus to switch to the astral. Focusing on the man in front of him, he assenesced the patient and the tube's location, then turned to Casey.

"Casey, I know you don't have a scope but close your eyes for a moment," he said then paused, walking her through magic 101 on the fly. "Think of the tube. Feel it: let yourself relax. What do you see?"

He suppressed a chuckle when she gave him a dubious look but tried. He felt a sense of relief when she almost gasped and stared in awe at what she could see, and there was no doubt in his mind that she could indeed see it. 

"Keep that vision and use it to get the tube out."

He could sense her efforts mirroring his own and a moment later the hoods were removed from both men.

Then the real fun began.

#


End file.
